


Peter Parker One-Shots

by starksparker



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Breakups, Cliche, College, Comfort, Depression, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Heartbreak, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I Blame Tumblr, Nightmares, PTSD, Protective Peter, Relationship(s), Romance, Sad with a Happy Ending, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Teen Romance, just a bunch of one-shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-07-27 13:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 49
Words: 95,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16220465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksparker/pseuds/starksparker
Summary: A collection of Peter Parker one-shots taken from my Tumblr (starksparker) and Wattpad (starksparker). I originally was posting them individually here but decided it's just easier for me to post them in one piece rather than create a new one everytime.





	1. It's Your Voice

The Queen’s streets are dim as your backpack clings to you on your way home from the library. A big test was scheduled for the following day and you spent your entire afternoon at the library studying, not that that was out of the norm for you to do, test or not. You had made this walk a thousand times. Same streets, sidewalks, alley. It’s all the same. The walk could be done in your sleep at this point.The streets might not be the safest but they weren’t horrendous as long as you minded your own business and weren’t in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, you weren’t exactly the luckiest person and seemed to be at the wrong at the wrong time regularly.

Someone whistled behind you, but you knew better than to pay them any attention. You kept walking, only barely increasing your pace, still three blocks away from your apartment. If you could keep your pace steady, slowly moving faster, you hoped that the guy would simply think you had your headphones in. The guys on the streets of Queens can smell fear and weakness and you were not about to feed into that. But to your dismay, footsteps trailed behind you, catching up as you took your usual turn down an alley for a shorter walk.

“Hey! I’m just trying to talk to you.” A male’s voice echoes down the alley but you keep walking, picking up pace a little more with his footsteps closing in on you. “Are you deaf?” He comes up from behind you and shoves you against a wall. “Now, what’s your name?” He flashes a creepy smile at you and you can’t help but wince at his breath that smells of cigars and scotch.

“I’m just trying to get home.” Your voice falters with fear as your heart starts pounding in your ears.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Just, let me get home.” You push against him but he holds you to the wall.

“I don’t think so. Maybe you need to learn a little lesson about ignoring people when they’re just trying to be nice.”

“Let me go!” You yell struggling beneath his grasp.

His fist comes down and collides with your face. You let out a scream in pain as tears burn the back of your eyes. “See what happens when you start screaming?”

“Just let me go.” You whine, this time much quieter as tears trickle down your cheeks.

“That’s not gonna happen, pretty lady.”

“Hey! Shithead!” A voice comes from above you and your attacker. The man looks up to the fire escape with confusion in the wrinkles near his eyes. “She said to let her go.”

It’s Spider-Man. You had never seen him in the flesh before, just pictures and videos. For only a second, you forget about your attacker to look at the fun-sized superhero in awe. It was so strange to have to be rescued at all but especially by someone like Spider-Man. He’s a superhero.

He comes down from the fire escape and shoots his web at the attacker, making him move away from you. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson on how to be a good citizen because you clearly need one.” Spider-Man continues and shoots another web, this time, dragging the attacker and slamming him against a wall. You watch in amazement and slight amusement as he finishes attaching the man to one of the walls with a giant web. “And you should just be quiet if you can’t say anything nice.” With one last movement, a web shoots out and covers the man’s mouth so he can’t speak.

“A-are you okay?” Spider-Man approaches you and you nod, furrowing your brows at him. “Uh, how about I walk you home?”

“Thanks.” You smile and tug at the straps of your bag.

“Oh here,” He starts pulling your bag from your shoulders and slides it onto his back. “I’ll carry it for you.”

“Thanks...again.” You giggle and mentally hit yourself for it as your cheeks shoot red.

“You’re welcome.” He looks to you and then to the ground. “Ya know, it’s not safe be walking alone at night.”

“So, I’ve been told.” You shake your head, remembering all the times your best friend had told you the same thing.

“You’re not gonna listen, are you?”

“Might have to now. My mom’s gonna flip when my eye starts bruising.” You keep your head forward as you point to your throbbing eye.

“He hit you pretty good. Do you need to get ice? We can stop and get ice.” He says quickly.

“I have ice at my house.” You lightly chuckles and start realizing how familiar he sounds and walks. His gestures look familiar, he sounds familiar. Maybe it was you getting punched, but you could swear you knew the guy under the mask.

“Oh, right right.” He says, nodding once.

“You know, you had oddly good timing.” You turn your attention to him with a quirked brow.

He shrugs, kicking a rock as you start to get closer to your apartment. “Yeah, good thing.” You look over and watch him, the corner of your mouth tugged up. “What?” He looks over, noticing you staring instead of watching where you were going.

“Interesting, that’s all.”

“It’s kind of my job to have good timing, ya know?” He says smoothly.

“Ah, yes. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Right place, right time.” Your words fall sarcastically.

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Nah,” You shake your head and purse your lips. “It’s not.” You shrug and send him a genuine smile.”Well, here’s my building.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Ya know, just stay safe and be careful walking alone.” His voice grows a little nervous, only making you laugh lightly, finding it all too adorable.

“I’ll see you around,” You walk up the first few steps and turn around. “Spider-Man.”

You head up the stairs and to your apartment door. You unlock the door, only to be greeted by your mom. “What on earth happened to your face?” She rushes over and grips your chin with her thumb and index finger.

“It’s fine, Mom.” You jerk your head away and go to take your backpack off only to realize you didn’t get back. You weren’t the forgetful type and with how seemingly familiar Spider-Man seemed, you were now sure you had a concussion.

“Who did it? Who was it? Tell me right now.”

“Some guy, I don’t know.” You shrug and walk past her to the kitchen.

“Y/f/n y/m/n.” Your mother’s stern voice follows you as you open the freezer and pull out an ice pack.

“Mom,” You groan, wincing at the freezing pack as you place it against the throbbing eye. “Spider-Man took care of it. Really, it’s fine.”

“Spider-Man, huh?” Your mother’s voice calms at the name of the Queens’s superhero.

“Uh-huh.” You swing open the fridge door and grab a waterbottle before lightly kicking it shut.

“What’d he do? Did he walk you home?”

“He, I don’t know, used his web to like, tie the guy to a wall and yes. He walked me home. Can I just go in my room? I’m tired.”

“Fine. But I’ll be checking on you to make sure you don’t have a concussion and to make sure your eye isn’t too bad.”

“Yes, nurse Mom.” You take your water and go back to your room.

Your mom worked as a nurse at the emergency so any scrape or bruise, had to be examined by her and she always had to make sure you didn’t have a concussion. She tried her best and you didn’t fault her for it but, sometimes having a little space would be nice.

When you walk into your room, you shut the door and fall back on your bed, your body falling comfortably into the mattress as if you hadn’t been there in ages. But, an annoying tapping on the glass of your window makes you get up and go to your window. The only person who ever used your fire escape was Peter which is the only reason you got up on the first place. But, when you open your curtain, it was Spider-man.

“Uh, hi?” You quirk a brow as you opened the window, abandoning the ice pack to the floor.

“Forgot to give you your backpack back.” He hands you your backpack through the window.

“Thanks.” You give him a cornered smile as your face turns a little red.

“Okay so, yeah, goodnight.” He nods with a rushed voice.

“Goodnight?” You say as he rushes off, using a web to swing between buildings. Before you could close your window, your mom comes in without even knocking.

“What was that?”

“Mom.” You close the window and face her, sitting on the floor. “Forgot my bag.” You lift it up to show her. “Spider-Man dropped it off. Please, can you calm down.” You pick the ice pack up and put it back on your eye.

“I’m hovering again, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” She says walking into your room. “It’s just, you’ve been at the library every day for weeks and I barely see you.” She takes a seat in front of you. “When I do, you’re rushing to bed or you have your head buried in a book. I don’t remember the last time I saw Peter over here.”

You look to the ground and pull your knees to your chest. “Peter’s just been busy.” You sigh, your heart saddened realizing you really only saw Peter at school lately. “He has that Stark Internship so he’s really busy.”

You mother gives you an understanding smile. “High school.”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip.

“What’s he gonna do when he sees that eye of yours tomorrow?” She pulls your hand away to reveal a purple bruise worsening and your eye partially shut from the swelling.

“Stutter and talk really fast about who did it, probably. And being the nerd he is, probably freak out when I tell him who came to the rescue.”

“Sounds like Peter.” Your mom chuckles.

“Yep, and Ned will stare in amazement and he’ll start asking a bunch of questions before Peter can and we’ll all probably end up in detention because neither of them will shut up.”

“Well, if you’re in detention, you won’t be walking home late at night from the library, so remind me to thank Ned and Peter later.” She smirks as she stands up, kissing the top of your head before doing so.

“Will do.” You toss her a thumbs up and she exits the room, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

 

The next morning rolls around and you trudge through your apartment to get ready; your mom already gone to the hospital for her day shift. Before leaving for school, you’d slid on a bigger hoodie with dark blue skinny jeans, wanting to be comfortable today. But, that wasn’t before you got a good look at your eye. You thought your vision was a little off and when you saw your eye partially swollen, you understood why. It had turned from purple to touches of dark blue, almost black and red on the outskirt, no sign of any yellow meaning there was no healing taking any place. You barely tried covering the bruise with foundation, knowing that there was nothing you could do to completely hide it and it hurt too much to go full out. So, you left it and headed to school.

You meet up with Ned and Peter by 21st Street. The both of them looking far more rested than you. “‘Sup, nerds.” You greet them with an awkward smile as they turn to face you.

Ned’s jaw drops as Peter’s eyes meet yours with devastation. “Dude, what happened?” Ned asks.

“Punched in the face by some creep last night walking home.” You shrug, gripping the strap of your backpack.

“Well, how’d you get out of that?” Ned continues, Peter not saying a word which comes as a surprise to you. Peter talks a lot as it is, but when it comes to you or Ned getting injured, either by tripping over a rock or getting a dodgeball to the face, Peter always asks a thousand questions. And yet, he’s completely silent.

“Spider-Man.” You remark, walking between the two boys.

“Woah, Spider-Man saved you?” Ned questions, looking past you and to Peter.

“Yep.” You nod, lightly smiling.

“Well, what happened?” Ned pushes for more detail.

“He used his web to stick the guy to the wall and then walked me home. Then, he knew which floor I lived on? And my window? So he brought my backpack to me since he offered to carry it and I forgot it.”

“Hear that, Peter?” Ned looks past you again and to Peter. “Spider-Man knows where she lives.”

“Yeah, Ned. I can hear.” Peter shakes his head. “What’d, ya know, you think of him?” Peter asks.

“He’s nice?” You furrow her brows at the question. “Ya know, saving lives.”

“Ju-just nice?”

“Yes…?” You side eye him. “Should I have another opinion?”

“It’s just, ya know, he saved you.” He shrugs.

“Yeah, it was nice. I don’t know. He had a cute voice so he’s probably cute but that whole mask thing kind of doesn’t tell me much.” With your words, Peter’s cheeks flush a vibrant red.

“So, do you, do you have like a crush on him now?” Peter hesitates to ask and Ned lets out a loud laugh, both you and Peter turning to stare at him with narrowed eyes.

“I’m sorry, it was funny. Go on.” Ned says, gesturing to the two of you.

“No,” You start snickering with Ned. “He’s some guy in a suit.” You nudge Peter as he tugs at the strap of his bag.

“Right,” Peter nods, keeping his head forward. “How’s your eye? Does hurt or anything?”

“It’s fine.” You shrug. “Only hurts if I touch it.” Your head hangs, just slightly before deciding to change the subject. “Hey, Peter, you have the Stark Internship tonight, right?”

“Oh, uh, the, yeah. Why?”

“Just curious. Ned, you’ve got a family thing, right?” You turn your attention to the other side of you and Ned nods in response.

“Yeah, I’ve got a family dinner. Apparently, my cousins are in town and want some bounding time or something. Why? Did you want to come and save me?” Ned jokes.

“Actually, I was just wondering if I was heading to library after school or if I was going with one of two.”

“So you don’t want to save me?”

“Sorry, Ned.” You giggle and pat his back. “Your family kind of scares me and I don’t think showing up at a dinner with a black eye is appropriate.”

“Yeah, guess you have a point.” Ned shrugs and the three of you make your way to school with soft conversations about whatever had happened in the short time you’d been away from each other. Which, actually, was just Ned speaking since Peter never told either of you much about his internship and the only thing worth telling from you was already told. It was a good thing Ned could talk anyone’s ears off.

By the time school ended, Peter was nowhere to be found. That wasn’t too abnormal by now but you did wish he’d at least walk you to get a sandwich like he used to. Maybe it was your attack from the night prior or you simply missing your best friend. You were, of course, happy for him having the Stark Internship but you wished he’d take ten minutes to breathe. With that though, you did have Ned and Ned was just as much your best friend as Peter.

“Aren’t you and Peter supposed to finish your death star?” You quirks a brow as you’re handed a sandwich from your usual sandwich vendor.

“Yeah, we’re working on it...slowly.” Ned says before ordering his food. You open the wrapping around your sandwich as you wait for Ned and he looks back to you with a raised brow and quizzical eyes. “Why?”

“Well, I mean,” You take a bite of your sandwich. “Don’t you, like, miss hanging out with him all the time? And he’s all weird lately?” Ned’s brows raise as he listens to you. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he has the internship and it’s super important but, ya know, I miss Peter.”

“Thanks.” Ned says to the vendor as he takes his sandwich. “Why don’t you just tell Peter you like him?” Ned questions as the two of you start off in the direction of the library.

“What?” You nearly yell as your head shoots to look at him. “I don’t like Peter!”

Ned tosses his head back with laughter as he opens his sandwich. “Yeah, you do. You stare at him all the time and you turn red as that fire truck every time he says anything.” Ned points to a passing fire truck with his words.

“I do not!” You try and defend before taking another bite of your food.

“Sure, okay.” Ned says sarcastically.

“Liking Peter, psh.” You mumble under your breath, granting you a soft snicker from Ned before the two of you fall silent, but only for a few minutes. “I can’t believe you think I like Peter. He’s so, and, Peter. Parker. He’s so, you know!”

“No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” Ned smirks as he finishes off his sandwich.

“Okay, fine. I like him but you can’t tell him.” You toss your hands up, as if Ned had been pestering you about it.

“Seriously, you should just tell him.” Ned eyes you once you get to the corner where you were supposed to go your separate ways.

“Ned.” You whine.

“I won’t tell him.” He rolls his eyes. “But, Peter is pretty oblivious so you should tell him. He’ll probably think you’re messing with him anyway.”

“Good luck with your family.” You ignore his response and wave him goodbye.

You make your way to the library and sits at your usual spot, being greeted by the librarian before doing so. Your day ticks by and before you know it, the librarian is pulling you from your book and is telling you it was time to leave since she was closing down.

The streets were dimmed just as the were the night before and you got chills thinking of the night before, despite knowing it probably wouldn’t happen again, not two nights in a row. It was just simply unnerving and part of you regretted your decision to stay out so late but the other part knew it was right if your plan was right.

And it was. As you reached the same alley from the night before, a familiar blue and red suited boy came down from above the taller New York buildings.

“I thought you weren’t gonna walk alone anymore.” Spider-Man questions as he stands in front of you.

“Yeah,” You bite your lip, trying to figure out how to respond.

“Well, guess I better walk you home again.” His voice is cheery and despite not being able to see his mouth, you know he’s smiling.

“Don’t you have, like, real problems to take care off?” You let out a soft laugh as the two of you make your way to your apartment.

“But, if I don’t walk you home, then something could happen and then it would be a problem.”

Your  face contorts with the strange response, partially from familiarity and partially from the sheer oddness of the response. “I guess that’s a fair point.” His walk slightly changes as if to hold more confidence and you could feel your cheeks glow red. “Why were you here again?”

“What?”

“Well, you were here last night. Why were you here again? I’ve walked this route a thousand times and have encountered some creeps but you only ever showed last night and now tonight, despite me walking alone.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, well. I kind of had a feeling you might be around and I just wanted to make sure that guy didn’t want some revenge or any of his friends.”

“Ah, so now you gotta watch over me?” You smirk up to him and the eyes on his mask squint. “That’s really cool.”

“What’s really cool? Me looking out for you?”

“I mean, yeah that’s cool, too. But, I mean your eyes on your mask narrow, like there’s actual facial expression. It’s just cool.”

“Right? That’s what I said when I first got the suit! And there’s so many other awesome features that I don’t even know how to work yet. There’s just,” He stops mid-sentence as you beam up to him, completely amused by him geeking out over his own suit. “Right, it’s a cool suit.” He calms down and nods. You continue to laugh as he stares down at you. “What?”

“You’re funny.” You shake your head

“You think I’m funny?” His voice picks up with shock.

“Yes.” You continue to smile as your apartment comes into view. “This might be weird, but can I have a hug?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He says slowly once you reach the steps of your apartment.

His arms wrap softly around your body, his warmth radiating onto you. “Okay, bye Peter.” You smirk, pulling away and walking inside your apartment before he could say another word.

You’d recognize his voice anywhere. You have listened to him talk everyday almost nonstop for years. The night prior you were pretty sure it was him but after getting punched in the face, you couldn’t be so sure but tonight, you were. That was definitely Peter’s voice and he definitely smelled like Peter’s deodorant.

You skipped up the stairs and right to your apartment. You come in so fast, your mom meets you in the living room with wide eyes and furrowed brows.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna be in my room.”

“There’s dinner in the kitchen!” She screams after you making you stop in your tracks and walk backwards to your mom.

“Can I eat in my room?”

“Sure?” Your mom cocks a brow and lets you get your plate of food. “You seem awfully chipper?”

“I didn’t get attacked on the way home.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Sorry.” You give her a wide, sorry smile. “Okay, thanks for the food. I’ll be in my room.” You run off to your room, shutting the door behind you.

Once in your room, you set your backpack down and move to your window. You rest your plate on the floor as you move your curtains. A blue and red dressed boy is sitting on your fire escape. You smile proudly as you open the window, grabbing your food, and sitting beside him.

“How the hell did you know?” Peter asks, his hair a complete mess from wearing his mask.

“I know you.” You laugh and offer him a chicken strip.

“So? What was it?” He takes the food from you and takes a bite. “You have to tell me so no one else figures it out.”

“Your voice.” You giggle lightly.

“Bullshit.” He remarks. “If it was my voice, you would have said something last night.”

“I got punched in the face.” You point to your eye. “I thought I had a concussion. But then I intentionally mentioned walking home again today in front of you to see if you would show up. And you did. And you talked and then I hugged you. The hug was the same and your deodorant kind of gave you away.” You stick your fork into your mashed potatoes and take a bite. “And you’re a geek who was nerding about your suit. If that’s not the most Peter Parker thing ever.”

“Oh.” He hangs his head as he finishes his food. “Well, you can’t tell anyone!” He picks his head back up and sneaks another chicken strip from your plate.

“What about Ned?”

“Oh, yeah, he knows.” Peter shrugs, taking a bite of his food.

“What? Why didn’t I know?” You question as you take another bite of your mashed potatoes.

“Well, I didn’t really tell him.” Peter explains, nonchalant. “I kind of walked on my ceiling and didn’t know he was in the room.”

You burst out in a fit of laughter, nearly dropping your food to the ground. “At least you tried.” Peter’s face turns a little red as he reaches for more food. “Do you want me to get you food?”

“No, I’ll just keep eating yours.” He smirks, taking a bite of his third chicken strip.

“Jerk.” You shoulder shove him as you continue to eat your food. “So, Ned knows, why didn’t you just tell me instead of always bailing and being all M.I.A?”

“I’m not really supposed to tell anyone.”

“But I’m not gonna tell anyone. And you bailed a lot. And if I knew you were out being all heroic, I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“You were mad?”

“I mean,” Your face flushes red as you start stumbling for words. “I missed you.”

“You missed me?” Peter stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Uh, yes? You’re, ya know, my best friend.” You shrug and look away.

“Ned said you like me.” Peter blurts out and you nearly chokes on your potatoes and start coughing. “Shit, shit, shit. Are you okay?” Peter asks, panicked as you calm down.

“When did he tell you that?” You ask with a weak voice.

“When he found out I was Spider-Man.”

“Why did he tell you that?” Your eyes are nearly bulging out of their sockets, confused why Ned would open his mouth, especially considering you hadn’t said anything until this afternoon. Either you have been way more obvious than she ever imagined, or Ned just pays way too much attention.

“Uhhhh,” Peter looks away. “Well, he said, that ya know, maybe if I-I told you that maybe you-you’d like me?” Peter pauses as you watch him become more and more flustered. “And, ya know, I asked why he thought that and he said th-that you already did but it would make you like me more.”

“What’s it matter if I like you though?” You quirk a brow, hoping he picks up on what you’re really asking without actually having to ask in fear of making it even more awkward.

“Well, uh, I-I might kind of like you, a lot.” Peter starts off slow but then starts rambling so fast you can barely understand him. “And I thought that if you knew I was Spider-Man, you’d like me just because I was Spider-Man instead of me and I get it if you don’t like me but since you asked and we’re sitting here and you’re hurt and I don’t want you to get hurt again, I might as well just tell you. And Ned would probably just tell you tomorrow anyway if we started acting weird and yeah, I get, maybe I should stop talking. Yeah, I’m gonna-”

You set her plate beside you and grab Peter’s face. “Shhhh.” You hush him before placing your lips onto his. His eyes shoot wide open before fluttering closed as he relaxes under your touch. “Yes, I like you.” You giggle as you pull away.


	2. Looking On The Bright Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's been distant with you ever since telling you about his secret alter ego, Spider-Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspire by Looking On The Bright Side by Boys Of Fall

Ever since you found out about Peter being Spider-Man, he’s been distant. He told you. You were suspicious since you’d been dating awhile and you paid attention but he told you himself which you greatly respected and appreciated but, he was distant since telling you.

He didn’t tell you what he did while he was being Spider-Man which, usually didn’t bother you. However, when he would come to school the following day with a black eye or he’d come by your house after and he’d be bloody, you’d question it. The most you ever got out of him was that it was just some bad guys and not to worry. You understood he couldn’t tell you everything but it’d be nice if he told you something every now and again.

Spider-Man missions weren’t the only things he was distant about. He didn’t come around as often, he was horrible at answering your texts and your calls. Peter kept quiet and didn’t look at you like he once did. To say it bothered you would be an understatement. You were still head over heels with Peter but the feeling seemed to be wearing off on his end and he didn’t know how to tell you. You wanted to ask more than anything, just rip the band-aid off and get it over with but you always opted out, convincing yourself it’d be better to wait.

Now, you’re sitting in your room with a bruised up Peter and you were tired of not asking. It was long enough and you were in pain watching him fall out of love with you and the band-aid was almost gone anyway.

“Do you still like me?” You ask quietly and Peter’s head shoots up to you with furrowed brows.

“W-what?” He shakes his head in confusion. “W-why would even ask that?”

“Because you’re,” You pause and shrug your shoulders. “You don’t come around much anymore.”

“I’ve got Spider-Man stuff I have to.” He answers plainly, releasing his eye contact.

“I know but you don’t tell me anything about it and it’s just, you don’t really text me back or call.”

“Spider-Man.” Peter answers again.

“I know, Peter. But, there’s something going on.” Your heart sinks as you regret asking now knowing that it’s just going to start a fight with you two.

“I have to do this, y/n.” Peter defends.

“I’m not saying you don’t have to, I’m just saying that you’re not acting like you used to.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“No, you’re not. You’ll see me coming in the hall and move faster to your classes. You each lunch quicker. You don’t wait after class anymore.” You pause as you look to the floor. “You don’t even look at me the way you used to.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do.” Peter shrugs as he stands up.

“I need to feel something from you, Peter.” You stand with him, now growing frustrated. “I need to feel something. And I don’t.”

“I-I’m trying, okay?”

“It doesn’t feel like it. I know you have to be Spider-Man and that’s okay. I’m okay with that but you can text me back every once in awhile, to let me know you’re safe. Stop by for dinner. You’re not Spider-Man twenty-four seven.”

Of course, it sounds selfish. Peter is out keeping people safe and you’re asking him to be around but that’s not what it was. If he made real conversation with you during lunch instead of spacing out, or didn’t look so absent any time you were around, you would let it go. It was more than just Spider-Man business, it was Peter.

Peter’s eyes gloss over as they meet yours. “Do you know what happens if I start being around more again?” You shake your head as lump forms in your throat, dreading his words. “You get hurt and I don’t want that. I’ve heard stories from Mr. Stark. I’m not gonna put you through that.” Peter’s shoulders barely shrug as your eyes start to water.

“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” Your voice cracks as you ask.

Peter’s head hangs and you know. “Yeah, I-I am.” Peter chokes out.

“No,” You swallow hard. “You don’t get to be upset. I do. You’re breaking up with me because of Spider-Man when you were the one too afraid I only liked you because of it.”

“Th-that’s not it, y/n.” Peter says, his eyes now watering with his shaky voice.

“Yeah, yeah it is.” A tear start to slip from your eyes. “I don’t go on missions with you, I don’t even harass you about them. I ask what happens when you show up bruised and bloody because I fucking worry.”

“I-I’m sorry. I just, I just can’t let it happen. And I can’t, I can't give up Spider-Man.”

“Because if you don’t use your powers and something bad happens, it’s your fault.” Peter nods as you quote something he had told you when you’d first gotten together. “Then, go be Spider-Man. Maybe, when you can figure out the difference between you and your alter ego, we can talk but I don’t even want to hear it right now.”

“Y/n, I don’t want you gone. I-I-I just can’t be with you.”

“Yeah, well. I can’t be around you if I’m not with you, not now. Because Peter Parker should be able to be with me. I don’t want Spider-Man, I want you. But you’re making it about Spider-Man, so get out.”

“Please, don’t-”

“Peter. Go.”

“Can we-”

“I’m not gonna ask you again.” You cross your arms and turn your back to him.

Peter hangs his head as his eyes water, his feet guiding him to your door. “I-I’m really  _sorry_.” Peter says softly as he opens your door, closing it behind him.


	3. Broken Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter goes off to fight a new villain and things don't go nearly as planned

_Deep breaths._

_Deep breaths._

_Deep breaths._

Annabelle’s hands shook against her side as she heard Peter groaning and attempting to fight back. Annabelle was directed to stay with May, stay with her and make sure she doesn’t know Peter’s whereabouts. Annabelle’s gut twisted when she saw the distant look in Peter’s eyes with his words. This was a new villain terrorizing New York and Peter needed to defeat him but, he didn’t tell her anything. All he said was that it was a new villain and he had to go right then and there. No questions asked.

Peter told Annabelle about the villains, not everything about them but enough where she wouldn’t worry too much because Peter always sounded confident that he could take care of them himself. Which, to be fair, he did. The kid knew what he was doing and while he returned scraped and bruised, a broken bone here and there, he kicked ass. Peter did just fine on his own. And yet, Annabelle felt wrong about this one.

So, she followed the commotion downtown. People were fleeing and screaming; their faces drenched in fear. Annabelle stood out from everyone. Her face was solid with determination and she was running towards the danger, something completely idiotic. But, she didn’t care. Something was wrong, something had to be wrong because she didn’t have feelings like that. Not ones that drove her into danger. Which is how she ended up standing against a wall, hiding from a horrendously large pale purple villain. who was busy trying to kill Peter. Annabelle had never seen anything like him and didn’t know he could exist. He was horrifying.

As Annabelle peaked around the corner, the villain was going after Peter as he was helping a kid from underneath some wreckage. Her eyes widened as her heart sunk. He had to know. It’s Peter. He always knows if someone is behind him but he wasn’t turning around. The kid was crying and screaming, his face bloody and Peter’s full attention was on him. So, Annabelle did the only thing she knew. She took a deep breath and gathered every ounce of courage she had and stepped out from the wall.

“Peter! Behind you!” She screamed and Peter’s attention was on her but in almost no time at all, he was dodging the purple villain.

Peter pulled the villain away from the child as Annabelle ran to help him. Peter nearly had the wreckage off which made Annabelle able to properly free him. The kid ran away and Annabelle turned back to where Peter was shooting webs at the villain. And at first, it actually seemed to be working. The villain looked like he was getting tired while Peter kept up his momentum. Peter, no matter how tired, was not going to give up. Especially with Annabelle right there.

However, as Annabelle was going to find somewhere to hide and think of something she could possibly do, the villain sprung his arm out just as Peter was swinging in to kick him. The sudden movement sent Peter flying and hitting the ground hard enough for Annabelle to look away, fear of what the impact could have done. But, her attention was soon brought up when the villain made his way towards her.

Annabelle backed away, locking eyes with the villain and hoping he really wasn't about to come for her. Where was everyone else? This guy was huge. Surely, Tony had to be around to help. Why was Peter out fighting this guy all by himself? It didn’t make sense.

Just as the villain was closing in, Peter’s voice echoed through Annabelle’s ears. “Gotcha.” Peter’s arm wrapped around her waist as he swung by on a web, bringing her away and off to a safer point.

“Peter, le-lets go. You can’t do this on your own.” Annabelle’s words are so fast, Peter can hardly understand her.

“I have to do this. Go home, please.” Peter pleads.

“Come with me, please, Peter.” Annabelle’s voice shakes and tears burn the back of her eyes.

“I can’t, Annabelle, I-I-I can’t. I love you, now go.” Peter gripped her face, tears forming in his eyes but them being hidden behind the mask. “Please.” Peter's voice gave the tears away. Annabelle knew he was crying with the weakness of the voice that left him. It was drenched in agony and fear. “Go.” Peter says as he releases Annabelle’s face and starts to back away but in that exact moment, the villain had caught up to them and was right behind Peter.

“Peter!” Annabelle screams and lunges forward for Peter but the villain grabbed Peter by the throat and slammed him into he ground like a ragdoll.

Annabelle watched in horror as small tears fell. Peter had been slammed and throw into the ground, concrete, metal buildings, before so he had to survive this, too. But, the villain wasn’t stopping. He just kept going and going and going, never releasing Peter’s neck.

“No.” Was the only word Annabelle heard as metal hands grabbed her and flew her into the sky. When she looked up, she saw the familiar mask of Iron Man. He brought her to a safer place to hide, more out of her sight range of Peter. With her here, surrounded by heavy wreckage from buildings, she wouldn’t be able to see the rest of what would happen and she wasn’t to go anywhere. “Stay. Here.” The voice was stern and pissed, but contained the smallest hint of worry and Annabelle knew it wasn’t for her but for Peter.

Tony moved a large piece of metal in front of Annabelle, closing her in so she wouldn't be able to move and with that, he was off to help Peter. So, she waited. Tony Stark, Iron Man, was here. He was gonna help Peter and they would come out on top together. They were indestructible. Invincible. Everything was going to be okay. It had to be okay.

Annabelle stood in the small area she was in, waiting for Peter to come from above her, take his mask, look a mess but give her that cheesy timid smile he seemed to always wear. But, that’s not what happened. The metal piece in front of her was moved and there stood Tony Stark in his Iron Man suit, the mask still covering his face. Annabelle eyed him as she didn’t take one step, not even a single breath.

“It’s over.” He says in a monotoned voice.

“Where is he?” Annabelle asks, her heart pounding in her ears so hard her equilibrium was starting to be thrown off.

“I’m gonna take you home.” Tony says as the mask opens.

“No.” She shakes her head and bites the inside of her cheek. “Where is he?”

Tony hangs his head and steps toward Annabelle. “Let’s go. You were supposed to be with May.”

“You don’t have to say it. I know.” Annabelle looks past him as she licks her lips. “Where is he?”

Tony sighs and shakes his head. “You don’t have-”

“I promised May.” Annabelle says, holding back a cry. “I promised her. I promised I was gonna go and I was gonna bring Peter home. I promised her.” The cries slip out with every word.

“There was nothing you could do.” Tony says, his own eyes turning glossy. Annabelle’s red eyes lock with Tony’s as her mouth is held into a quivering straight line, not budging her stance. At that point, Tony unclasped a hand he had in a fist, something Annabelle didn’t even notice until it happened. In his hand was Peter’s mask. “He’s with Quill.” Tony hands Annabelle the mask and jerks his head behind him.

Annabelle held his mask in her hands, her thumbs tracing over the material as tears fell onto it. She wiped her eyes and shook her head, holding it up high and swallowing the restricting lump in her throat. She walked to where she saw a guy she assumed was Quill was standing, almost gurading Peter who was laying flat on his back, not moving.

Quill looked to her and then behind her to Tony who was following not too closely. Quill moved when Tony gave a nod and Annabelle stood above Peter, parts of his suit torn from the multiple impacts to the solid ground. When she kneeled beside him, she saw his neck a soft shade of purple and blue, showing the size of the hand of the villain compared to frail Peter. Her fingers brushed over it, hoping, for some reason, it was just dirt but it wasn’t.

“Peter.” Annabelle says, bits of hope in the name she hoped to call everyday.

But, nothing.

“Peter.” She says a little louder.

Nothing.

“Peter!” This time, it was a sobbed scream. “You wake up!” She rests the mask beside her as she pulls on his shoulders. “You have to wake up! You promised!” Annabelle shook him but the only movement that came from him was the loose strands of his light brown hair. “Please wake up.” Annabelle cries as her hands move to his face.

Tony and Quill hang their heads as they watch the hopeless sight. They already tried. Tony shook him and yelled. Quill tried CPR. There was nothing. Peter was gone by the time they showed up.

“I love you, so you have to wake up.” Annabelle’s tears fell onto his face, receiving her no movement from the lifeless boy.

“He-he’s gone.” Tony walks over to her, not able to bear the sight any longer.

“No! He’s Spider-Man. He’s Peter. He can’t be gone.” Annabelle yells, shaking Peter’s head with her vision becoming completely blurred by tears.

“I’m...I’m sorry.” Tony places a hand on Annabelle’s shoulder and her stomach twisted with pain as an agonizing and torturous sob left her.

“I’m so sorry, Peter.” Annabelle mumbles, closing her eyes as she rests a l kiss on the young boy’s forehead.

“Come on, Quill’s gonna take you home.” Tony says, his voice barely remaining steady. “I’m gonna take care of Peter.” With the name, Tony’s voice falters. “You take his mask,” Tony reaches to the opposite side of Annabelle and grabs the mask. He pulls her hands away from Peter’s face and makes her face him. “You take it and you tell May, you tell her I’m sorry.”

Annabelle nods and looks back to Peter who should be giving her a cheesy grin, the one he always had when he was right and she was wrong but his mouth remained in a straight line and his eyes stayed shut. His chest didn’t move and his nose didn’t flare. Lifeless.

“I love you so much, Peter Parker.” Annabelle whispers with another waterfall of tears cascading down her face while she rests a final kiss on his lips, one list bit of hope that they’d be in a Disney movie and it’d wake him up, but it didn’t.

So, Quill walked next to her and offered his hands to help her stand. She rested on hand in his while the other held onto Peter’s mask so tight she were almost certain her nails could tear through the fabric. Annabelle made one last glance behind her as they walked off to see Tony with his head in his hands and Peter lying in front of him. And that was it. Peter Parker died a hero but left behind a soulmate, a best friend, a mentor, a father figure, and an aunt.


	4. The One Where You Go To London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you need to decide between staying in New York with Peter or taking a once in a lifetime internship in London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by FRIENDS

_Peter Parker._

Peter Parker. What wasn't there to absolutely love about the awkward boy? He was endlessly kind and remarkably intelligent. That boy deserves the entire world and the world doesn't deserve him and yet, here he is. Living in the world and being a superhero. Peter Parker is a pure, pure soul which is why your hands are shaking and your palms are sweaty, your head faint.

You told yourself a thousand times that if you ever had an opportunity to make your biggest dreams come true, you'd never give it up for anything. But, then you met Peter. Suddenly, everything changed. Did you focus in school? Of course. Did you let anything slip? Nope. You kept everything straight but your heart ached for him and when you found out about this once in a lifetime internship in London, your heart soared and then nearly shattered when you saw Peter's smile.

You told him about the internship, you were applying and Peter, oh that boy, he wore his emotions on his sleeve and you saw his heart drop but, he didn't miss a second. He encouraged you and promised you'd get it. He knew what it meant if you got that internship but he also knew it was your dream so he encouraged you and hoped you'd get it because that boy loves you more than anything.

_You got it._

So, now you're knocking on Peter's door. You weren't supposed to be over that day but you couldn't just hold it in and wait and you couldn't just text him that kind of news. It needed to be said in person.

May answered and cheerfully let you in, always being fond of you since the second Peter brought you home well over a year prior. You walked to Peter's room and knocked, opening the door. He was busy at his desk working on his web shooter.

It was four months after you started dating that he told you he was Spider-Man. You were breaking up with him because he refused to tell you what he was doing at night all the time. He'd show up with cuts and bruises. You'd come over and he always had ice to his face, blood stains on his backpack. You had had it and then he blurted it out. From then on, you took basic first aid classes and kept supplies at your house so you could help stitch him up if he stopped by. Everything has gone smoothly between the two of you since.

"Hey, P." You smiled as he looked up to you, a mini flashlight dangling from his mouth.

"Hey, y/n." Peter removed the flashlight and gave you his normal cheesy smile you adored more than anything. "What's up?"

"I got some news." You say, your smile lingering but your heart starting to weigh heavy.

Something no one knows is that you made yourself a promise. If he asked you to stay, you would. If he didn't, you'd leave. It might be stupid and you realize that but you also knew that Peter was your person.

Two things were going to happen if you left. You'd try long distance but it would end because you need to be here to make sure he's okay. He,  _he is Spider-Man_  and you would never ask him to give it up. So, you'd break up because it's too hard to worry about someone's well-being when they're across an ocean. The second thing, Peter would follow you because he's a sweetheart but, that would end. He would hate being away from New York, away from the Avengers. He could be Spider-Man anywhere, yes, but the tower is in New York. He loves you and he'd give you the world, but he needs to be in New York. That's how it is. So, regardless, if you leave, you break up and you both know it.

So, if he asks you to stay, you will. You can find another internship in the states. You can find one right then and there and if worst comes to worst, you can ask Peter to ask Tony for help. You had other opportunities right here. But, you'd never ever tell Peter to make your decision because that is not fair to him. If he told you to stay, you would. You wouldn't tell him it's because he told you to, but because you already wanted to.

"Okay." Peter takes a deep breath as he spins in his chair, away from his desk.

"So, uh, you know that internship?" You say, walking towards him and stopping just in front of his desk.

"Yeah." Peter nods, watching you tap your fingers on the wood.

"I got it." Your voice is quiet as you keep your stare on the desk, not wanting to see the possible heartbreak.

"I knew you would!" Peter exclaims, moving his chair to you and pulling your legs between his, grabbing your full attention. You give him a cornered smile as you see the pride in his eyes. "I'm proud of you." He stands up, his arms wrapping around your waist before placing the softest kiss to your lips.

"Thanks, Peter." You say against his mouth as he pulls away.

_God, were you going to miss him._

"When, uh, when you do you go?" He asks, biting his lip.

Your head hangs as you can feel your tears wanting to surface. "Tomorrow."

"What?" Peter's eyes widen as his jaw drops and when you look to him, the pride was gone. Completely washed away by absolute heartbreak.

"Uh, yeah. I guess, uh," You swallow hard as Peter's grip loosens around you. "Someone pulled out of the internship and I was the next in line. So, I have to go, tomorrow."

"Okay." Peter says quietly, the normally cheerful tone crushed. "What-what does that, what's that mean...for us?"

"Um, I don't know." You shake your head.

Your heart is beating so hard and begging so fucking loud for him to ask you to stay, you were hoping he could suddenly hear it. That maybe he could suddenly read your mind, read your heart, your gut. God, fucking anything to get him to tell you to stay.

"I-I-I don't want to break up." Peter stammers, his grip growing tighter with the words.

"We-I go, we, we can't do long distance." You shake your head, fighting back tears. "It's too hard."

"I know..." The voice that left him, you were sure that had you not been watching his mouth move, you'd never known it was his voice. "I love you." The words are pleading and cracked.

"I'm gonna go." A few tears escape your eyes as you pull away from his grasp, hoping that if you left it like that, left before he started crying, it'd be easier to get on the plane the next morning.

Peter's fingers linger on the fabric of your jeans as you move from his touch, your back facing him as you head for his bedroom door. "Y/n..." You turn and your heart lifts with hope, maybe he'd ask. Tell you to say just for the sake of saying it. Something. "Please,"

_Say it._

"Uh," He licks his bottom lip, glossy eyes shining against the small light in his room.

_Please, one word._

"I'm gonna miss you."

_Wrong words._

"I'm gonna miss you, Peter Parker." You swallow the lump in your throat as you look to him, everything in you keeping your lip from quivering and your eyes from spilling tears.

Your head hangs as you turn back around and exit his room, leaving Peter heartbroken and alone.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day came and Peter could swear he'd never been in more pain. A building crushed him and the heartbreak he was going through was worse. You were his everything better plan. His last chance; you were his world. How could you leave? You weren't supposed to leave. You and him till the end but who would he be to ask you to stay? A terrible boyfriend.

"Dude. Get up." Ned groaned, not bothering to knock before going into Peter's room.

"She's gone." Peter mumbles, the covers covering his face.

"Her flight got delayed," Ned says, pulling out his phone and pulling up Snapchat to reveal your story where you were complaining about an hour delay.

"She's still leaving," Peter mumbles as he looks at the story. Your eyes swollen and tired; your hair a complete mess. You definitely didn't sleep at all the night prior.

"Man, do you want her to stay?"

Peter sits up and reaches for a shirt on the floor. "Uh, yeah?"

"Did ya tell her?" Ned's voice grows annoyed.

"Of course not!" Peter's brows furrow as he gets up and starts moving about his room. "I can't tell her."

"Okay? Why?"

"Because!" Peter gestures his hands out. "I can't ask her to give up her dream! That's-that's not fair and-and-and....I don't know."

"Listen, Peter," Ned puts his hands on Peter's shoulders. "The literal worst thing that can happen is that she ignores you and leaves. That's it. You've already broken up, right? According to your weird ass texts last night anyway. So, how about you tell her to stay?"

"Dude." Peter shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. "What if she hates me for asking?"

"What if she stays? You're gonna be standing here miserable wondering what if if you don't just say something. So, god, get on the phone and tell her." Ned demands. " _What if she stays, dude?_ "

Peter's face softens and he nods, realizing Ned was being far more logical than he was. "Alright." Peter gets away from Ned and yanks his phone from the charger and clicks your name, a picture he got of you laughing flashing across the screen. The phone rings but goes to voicemail. How could you talk to him after the night before? You'd start crying all over again. "She didn't answer." Peter's voice comes off panicked as he tries again.

"We could go to the airport." Ned offers, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

"We could go to the airport," Peter repeats, the room seemed to come to a complete stop.

"I just said that."

"Let's go." Peter says, his voice rushed as he runs around his room, grabbing a hoodie, not bothering changing out of his sweatpants.

"We're really going?" Ned asks, a smile forming on his face.

"Think we can make it?" Peter asks, hopping out of his room attempting to put on his shoes.

"If we hurry." Ned internally cheers.

He adored you and he knew that Peter would be miserable for months without you. He wasn't just Peter's guy in the chair, he was Peter's best friend, the guy knew more about Peter than anyone else did and he'd do anything to keep his friend happy. That's what friends do.

Peter yells a quick bye to May before him and Ned run out of the apartment. They're able to catch a cab and Peter continues to try and call you and after the fifth time, Peter takes Ned's phone and tries that. You send Ned's phone to voicemail, knowing it'd be Peter and if not Peter, it'd be Ned telling you to answer Peter. The last thing you want to do is start crying in the middle of the airport. People do it all the time but they're usually saying goodbye or hello to loved ones. You were alone. It was nothing. Crying in public can be so embarrassing and you cried all night long. You just wanted to board your plane and sleep the six-hour flight.

Twenty minutes passed, Peter was still calling you while you were ignoring him but, finally, you heard your flight being called. A rush of relief came over you as you grabbed your carry on and wheeled it behind you, stuffing your phone in your pocket. You handed to your ticket to the attendant and entered the connecting hall that would lead you to the plane, ready to change your entire life.

"We're gonna be too late." Peter panics as they rush through security as fast as they're able.

"Dude, you're," Ned leans in closer so no one around them can hear. "Spider-Man, this is nothing."

"That's not really gonna help right now, Ned." Peter's hand hits your number for what was probably the hundredth time."Why won't she answer?"

"I don't know." Ned shrugs.

"She needs to answer her phone. She didn't say it back."

"What?" Ned questions as Peter looks over to him, the phone pressed against his head.

"I told her I love her and she didn't say it back. She didn't say it back and now she won't answer." Peter starts moving as fast as he can without running or losing Ned.

"You told her you love her? That's when you decide to finally tell her?" Ned groans, his legs trying their hardest to keep up with Peter.

Peter and you never said you loved each other before. You did, you loved him and he loved you and you both knew it. It didn't need to be said because it was in your actions and the way he smiled at you when you were chewing at your pencil and the way you teased him about how red his cheeks got when you'd kissed him. It was how he always made sure you got home safe and you made sure his cuts were clean. The word didn't need to be said. Peter telling you he loved you, that was him telling you to stay but you didn't know.

"No, no, no, **no**." Peter rushes his words when he sees a plane outside the giant window pulling into the sky from the runway. "That's not her plane, right?" Peter looks to Ned who doesn't have a clue.

"I'll ask. Stay here." Ned says as he moves to the desk.

"Come on, y/n. Don't be on the plane." Peter mumbles, calling your phone again. "Fuck." Peter scoffs as your phone goes directly to voicemail, his eyes watching the plane fly off as tears start to swell. He knew that was your plane. It had to be. How could he not tell you to stay? Correctly? How could he just not text you? Texting you would have been so much easier. You would have viewed it.

"Dude, that's the plane," Ned says quietly as he stands beside Peter.

His heart falling into the pit of his stomach. Peter mumbles. "She got on the plane." He shakes his head, the words leaving his mouth in disbelief.

"I didn't get on the plane." Your voice falls on his ears as you stand a few feet away, your hand resting on the handle of your luggage, relief flooding your veins at the sight of Peter. "I didn't get on the plane."


	5. Grayscale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having a soulmate is great until their heart stops. One second you’re seeing in color and the next, everything is in black and white. One second you can feel their emotions, and the next, it’s just you. Easy to see how being the soulmate of Peter Parker would be anything but simple.

The TV echoed through your apartment as it was getting late. Peter was supposed to start moving in whenever he was done with what he needed to but, it was coming closer to eleven which meant it’d have to wait until the next day. You weren’t mad, but slightly worried. You got over being mad when he told he was Spider-Man. Your anger with him being late turned into worry but it was worth it, not that you had much choice in the matter anyway.

You’d met him during one of your college classes your first year. You bumped into each other and everything changed. Immediately, you could sense his every emotion as he could yours. You saw things in a different light, like he was the sun which, once you got to know him, suited him. Peter is a literal ball of sunshine. But, that wasn’t all. Your heart ached for him which you knew would happen because that’s what everyone always said once they found their soulmate but you weren’t sure if they were all just exaggerating.  _They weren’t._  It wasn’t a clingy ache but a homesick one. One, you found yourself rather used to within a year because of Peter constantly being MIA.

It was your one year anniversary and he was late, again. You had reservations at a fancy restaurant, his call, and he was supposed to take you but, last minute, he rang you and said he’d be a little late. An hour passed before you understood, like many other dates prior, Peter would be a no-show. So, you left and when you reached your apartment, you yelled and cursed the universe for granting you with a flake of soulmate like Peter Parker. Of course, those thoughts were nearly erased when he showed up in the middle of the night with blood-soaked clothes and a black eye.

You cleaned him up, as you did every other time he showed up with any sort of cut or bruise which was all the time. However, after the cleaning routine, you let out a sigh and told him you couldn’t do it because while you’re supposed to be together, you don’t have to be. That, that is up to you and him and you decided it’d be better to be alone than with someone unreliable and someone who was always injured, likely in some fight club. To your dismay, he accepted it. For whatever reason, he accepted that you couldn’t do it anymore and that was it, until three months later.

It was a normal day but out of nowhere, similar to today, your heart starting stinging and your bones felt like someone was crushing them. Overwhelming amounts of emotions washed over you, forcing you to leave class mid-lecture. You had no reason to feel anything but bored and you knew it was Peter so, with tears trickling down your cheeks, you called him as you walked swiftly to his apartment. He answered with a shaky voice and in seconds, you were turning in the opposite direction and calling for a cab.

May had fallen down the stairs to her apartment and was in the hospital. She needed surgery but would be fine. However, that didn’t stop Peter from being angry at himself for not being there and terrified of losing her as he’s lost so many other people. You felt every ounce of anger and fear he had and it only terrified you more. You were connected and there was nothing you could do about it and truthfully, every day that passed for three months, 105 days to be exact because you counted every day you were away from him, was miserable. Your skin begged for him as your heart pleaded for you to call him. Everything in you needed him and it was torturous. So, you explained that you missed him and he missed you, too just as much even. He knew you missed him because his bones felt it. There was no denying that the two of you had to be together and that it was more than just the universe saying ‘here this one’.

_Even if you had a choice, you’d still choose each other._

Most nights, you didn’t have a reason to worry. He always came back and while he was sometimes bruised and bloody, he was okay. But, that wasn’t the case this time.

As you were getting up to head to the kitchen, everything went grey. Your heart stopped and your breath hitched, veins ran cold. But, then the color returned, seconds later. Your heart sped up but you felt like you couldn’t breathe and you felt like ice. Fear penetrated your bones as you looked around your living room. Peter’s emotions fled with yours, causing an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket, nearly dropping it from the tremor of your hands. You dialed Peter’s number but it went to voicemail after a few rings so you tried again and the same thing happened. Your vision went grey and now he won’t answer. He died, he died for at least a few seconds and you were stuck in your apartment with only your thoughts.

_Option 2: Tony._

You slid the screen to Tony’s contact and he answered on the third ring

“Yes?”

“Where’s Peter?” You looked out of your living room window, your eyes darting back and forth, fear that you’d stop feeling Peter and everything would fade again.

“If I had to make a guess, probably out saving the city. Why?” Tony’s voice sounded less than concerned.

“It went grey and then color.”

With your words, you heard something fall and crash to the floor, the sound of a screech following suit. Tony was in his lab, working on something as he usually was. He rarely ever left his lab at night. He was there more than he was any other place, ever since Pepper died.

He knew exactly what your words meant. Pepper died right in front of him and not only did he have to witness his soulmate falling two hundred feet to her death, but he had to witness every color around him turning to different shades of greys. He felt her die. Tony understood and how he wished more than anything that he didn’t.

“Tony?” You croaked, moving from your window and to the middle of your living room.

“Yeah,” Tony blinked, holding his face in a straight line. “It’s color again?”

“Yeah…” Your mouth dries as tears threaten to slip. You always knew there was a higher chance of losing Peter but you didn’t actually think it’d happen.

“I’m going. Stay where you are, lock your doors. Got it?”

“You’re-you’re gonna find him, right?” You chew on your lip, swallowing the lump that’s formed in your throat.

“Already had FRIDAY pull him up. I’m on my way, just sit where you are. Call me if something changes.” Tony says before ending the call.

You put your phone in your hoodie as you pace back and forth. You chewed on your thumbnail, anything to try and calm your anxiety. If you were anxious, Peter would feel it. His heart stopped for whatever reason which meant he definitely was in no position to deal with your incoming anxiety. His anxiety was already flowing through you but, how the hell were you supposed to just wait? Just wait and either hope to the universe that Peter is okay? That Tony gets to him and it’s fine? How are you supposed to do that? It’s not like you could do anything else. It’s not like you knew where Peter was or even how to locate him. If you showed up anyway, you would be a distraction. You had to stand in your apartment and wait. Alone.

Your wait wasn’t long, however. Although, it wasn’t anything like you expected. Your glass door leading out to the balcony shattered as someone came crashing through. They were dressed in a dark green suit, similar to Peter’s but bulkier and didn’t have a mask. They stood on a board that was hovering above your carpet. The creepiest, most sinister smile crept on their face as he locked eyes with you, hopping from the board. You backed up as far as you could, your hand in your pocket, pressing a button as many times as you could.

It was set up by Tony. You hit the button if you were in a situation, life or death, and FRIDAY would alert him and KAREN would alert Peter. It was Peter’s idea. Peter’s way of keeping the city safe was making sure you had something to keep you safe. That button. However, Tony was going to Peter and who knows if Peter is even conscious. You were fucked.

“Hello.” He held out the word, almost taunting you while his so-called smile made your skin crawl. You just stared at him with a grimace. “What? Where’s your hospitality?”

“Get out.” You try to hold your voice steady.

He snickers at your demand. “You’re coming with me.”

“Over my dead body.” You quip.

“That’s kind of the plan.” He smiles wide, showing his teeth as your face fell.

Before you could say another word, he moved towards you and wrapped his arms tightly around you as you fought him but he was way stronger than you. With you yelling and pulling against him, he dragged you onto his board with him. You struggled the entire time until you were outside, overlooking the street outside of your apartment. If you struggled now, he could drop you and you really would die. The only thing left to do was hope that Peter or Tony would show up and help, although you were getting the idea that whoever this guy was, likely was only after you because of Peter. Normal people don’t just barge in and kidnap any random person, there’s a reason.

“What do you want with me?” You ask as you look down, utter panic coursing through your veins.

All the green guy does is smirk at you before moving his eyes back in front of him. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar metal suit flying towards you while the familiar colors of red and blue appear opposite, swinging from a building. Your heart falls to your stomach but with a touch of relief. First, Peter was okay and second, they were going to get you out of this alive.

Green guy took a sharp turn causing you to let out a scream. He flew you to the top of one of the nearby buildings, hopping off his board with one arm around your neck. Tony and Peter landed seconds later.

“Let her go.” Peter said, his voice remaining calm and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wasn’t even mad.

“That’s not how this is going to go down, Parker.” Your brows furrow with the use of Peter’s last name. This guy knows him. That just makes it even worse.

“Come on. This doesn’t involve her and you know it.” Tony chimes in as the guy’s grip tightens around your throat.

He couldn’t possibly kill you, right? Not with both Tony and Peter there. He can toss you off the building but Tony can fly to you and Peter can use a web to catch you. There was no way you could die and by the calmness in both Tony and Peter’s voice, you suspected they were thinking the exact same thing.

“Harry, I’m sorry about your dad.” Peter says, taking off his mask revealing an already black eye and all sorts of cuts scattered about his face.

“Sorry. Doesn’t. Make. It. Better.” One of Harry’s hands comes up to your opposite shoulder allowing his entire arm to cross your chest while the arm around your neck, tightened, his hand coming to the side of your face.

“Peter.” You choked out, gasping for air as tears swelled.

“Sorry doesn’t make it better but killing her isn’t gonna make it better either.” Tony tries but his voice holds fury.

“He deserves to know what it’s like.” Harry says.

“It was an accident, Harry.” Peter pleads taking a step forward, Tony staying where he stood. “I was never trying to hurt him, just stop him.”

“One more step, Parker.” Harry threatens, making Peter stop dead in his tracks.

You were completely clueless. In order to keep you as safe as possible, Peter didn’t tell you much about anything involving Spider-Man. You would just help clean up his cuts and any other injury he had. You made sure he was okay and you were there to listen when he needed to get anything off his chest but Peter never gave you details. The more you knew, the more danger you would be in, at least, that’s what he thought.

Tears trickled down your cheeks as you watched Peter. His hands were trembling and his eyes were starting look bloodshot. A lump formed in his throat as his eyes locked with yours. He was sorry, you could feel it. You knew. But, you fell hopeless and Peter could feel  _that_. He felt your last hope slip from you and it was because he looked panicked, he looked heartbroken. Harry held his world, ready to snap your neck in a second and there was nothing Peter or Tony could do. That, that’s reality.

“Let her go and you can walk away.” Tony takes over the talking, realizing it might be better if Peter just focused on how to get you out of Harry’s grasp. “Last chance.” Tony’s hand rose as the palm of his suit started to glow.

Harry scrunches his face as his brows raise and chin wrinkles, a look of torment. “We’ll see.” With his words, he pulled your head to the side and holding your shoulders still, the sound of your neck snapping hitting all three guys’ ears.

_Grey._

_Everything._

Peter watched as the blue lights in the distance faded to a bright grey, the green suit of Harry turned dark grey, almost black.

_Bone crushing._

_Heart shredding._

The worst possible pain ripped through him while everything seemed to just be going in slow motion. Memories flooded through his head as you fell to the ground of the roof.

Your first date at the coffee shop down the street from your apartment. Peter was embarrassed for spilling coffee on you but that only lead you to borrow his hoodie. Peter let you keep it, insisting it fit you better anyway. You wore the pale blue hoodie at least twice a week. Peter's heart constantly soared everytime you had it on. You were  _his_.

The first time you kissed and Peter had never felt anything so magical. Electricity flooded him and the smile didn’t disappear for a week. The spark, he swore it didn’t leave his mouth for days. It was breathtaking and left him giddy. To this day, he swore the purple dress was his favorite and while, yes, it looked lovely on you, it was because it was the dress you wore that night.

Your first fight. He was late and he felt horrible for it but, he needed to be Spider-Man. You cried and he wanted to ramble off everything that ever happened and how he ended up being Spider-Man right then and there, anything to maybe mend what he had broken.

But, the one memory that made his blood turn fire was the first time you met May. The two of you bonded in the kitchen, making dinner together while Peter watched with the softest smile in utter awe and admiration. Soulmates, sure, but he was so in love with you regardless and May loved you. May loved you and that was the most important thing to him. He even had to question if May liked you more than him at the end of the night. You laughed and told him of course she did. You were a part of his family. That moment made you a part of his little family of just him and May.

Peter let out a yell and lunged at Harry before Tony took a shot. Peter pinned Harry down and slammed him against the gravel-covered rooftop, while Tony went to you, checking to see if it were true. Harry laughed as blood spilled from the corner of his mouth with every time his back collided with the gravel.

“More blood on your hands, come on!” Harry encouraged, his eyes crazy while Peter’s grey vision blurred with tears.

Peter didn’t say a single word as he continued slamming Harry into the roof. Tony came up to the side of him as Harry fell unconscious but Peter didn’t stop, anger, devastation, disbelief consuming him and keeping him going.

“Stop.” Tony said kneeling beside Peter. Peter, on the other hand, blocked him out, more memories flooded Peter’s head. Your smile, laugh, the way your eyes shined when you’d smirk while teasing him about his onsie. “Web him up and stop.” Tony’s voice grew louder as he placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. Peter’s eyes burned and his skin was on fire. “Okay, okay. Stop!” Tony pulled Peter off of Harry, Peter flailing his arms to get away from Tony.

Peter stumbled over to your lifeless body. He used his shoulder to wipe his tears from one cheek as he moved into this lap.

“Wake up.” His voice shook with the two words. “Y/n, you’re not dead.  _Wake up!_ "

You were though. You weren’t going to just magically wake up because he asked you to. This wasn’t those nights where he came over after being Spider-Man and asked you to wake up to talk or move over so he could sleep beside you. Your heart wasn’t beating, blood wasn’t pumping, the nauseating ache in Peter’s chest didn’t affect you. Nothing and he knew it.

There was so much grey and he felt fucking empty. He quite literally felt like someone had reached into his chest and pulled out of his heart and then tossed it off the side of the building. Everything just felt empty and dull and painful, all at the same time. It was pain that would never go away, no matter what he did, what anyone did. The pain and the emptiness weren’t going to just go away. That’s what happens your soulmate dies. When one dies, the other is left for dead, empty and grey.

_Forever._


	6. Legends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day of canceled plans on yours and Peter’s anniversary is nothing he can’t fix with a movie marathon and a surprise.

Rain pattered against the window. Thunder rumbled softly while lightning struck across the New York sky. The rain helped melt the remaining bits of snow that decorated the sidewalk outside of your building. Surely, the rain was only going to freeze and you’d be relying on salt trucks and the owner of your apartment complex to make sure the ice was melted. But, for now, you were content with your legs intertwined with Peter’s, your head on his chest as it moved peacefully up and down, his hand running through your hair.

Absolutely, peaceful. Serene. Comfortable.

You looked up and gave Peter the softest smile as he looked down to you. Even after all this time, his cheeks tinted the softest shade of red when you gave him that smile; when you looked at him with so much love he could feel the rush in his bones. It’s the same rush he got when you transferred high schools and he saw you for the first time.

It was like that moment in films, where the protagonist just knows. The world around them stops, just for them, as they watch the other person walk past them. It happened to Peter with you. It took the boy months to get the courage to ask you on a date but when he did, you beamed and didn’t hesitate to agree. Since then, you two have been what everyone wants. It’s been four years since school ended and you were still going. Stronger than ever in fact. You felt it and he felt it. You don’t just spend six years of your life with someone and it not be something epic and extraordinary.

“Movie’s over.” You mumble, still looking up to him.

“Mhm.” He hums, your heart beating with his.

“What’re we gonna watch next?”

“The Vow?” Peter suggests.

“You’re so corny.” You chuckle.

“You love me.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, moving up to gesture for you to get up.

“You were warm.” You pout as you sit up.

Peter pouts back, mocking you. “So were you.” Peter stretches as he reaches for his phone from the coffee. “You wanna make some popcorn?”

“Are you asking me if  _I_ want to make popcorn or if I will make  _you_  popcorn?” Peter sends you a wide, toothy smile. “Yes, I will make you popcorn.”

“Love you.” Peter says, connecting his lips with yours in the quickest kiss.

“I know.” You roll your eyes as you get up, making your way to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry we had to cancel the picnic.” Peter states, watching you carefully so you wouldn’t notice him rummaging under the couch for a little box he'd hidden earlier.

“It’s okay.” You say as you put the bag of popcorn in the microwave. “You might be Spider-Man but you can’t control the weather.” You joke as the popcorn starts to slowly pop.

“Yeah,” Peter says, once he’s seated back on the couch. “We just always go to the park for our anniversary so it kind of sucks. It’s like a tradition.”

“But movie nights with you are rare so, like,” You shrug, looking over to him, the back of his head to you. “This is better.”

Peter bit his lip with the sincerity in your voice. It was true. Spider-Man took up a lot of his time and you didn’t have many movie nights. They were few and far between which only made the two of you cherish them when they did happen.

The popcorn finished popping and you poured it into a bowl while Peter looked over a paragraph he’d written in the notes of his phone. He read it over and over, making sure he knew the words even though he knew he’d just start rambling the second you came back. He just wanted it to be as perfect as possible.

You set the popcorn down on the coffee table in front of Peter, him nearly dropping his phone with shaking hands before stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie. He stood up, holding your hand, preventing you from sitting down. Peter swallowed a large, nervous lump in his throat as you locked eyes with him, quirking a brow.

“I was gonna sit?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods. “Uh, but, I, yeah.”

“Oh God, what did you do?” You knit your brows by Peter's nervous state.

He stopped getting nervous around you after the first few months. It only came out in spurts, like when he had something planned or when he broke something by accident, sometimes when he got hurt from one of his spidey nights. But, nonetheless, the nervousness was rare.

“What?” Peter’s eyes widen. “Nothing!” He defends.

“Okay?” You give him a confused laugh. “What’s up then? You’re being weird again?”

“Right, okay,” Peter takes a deep breath, taking both your hands in his as he knelt to the floor on one knee. Your eyes grew wide with the stance.

“Peter, what’re you going?” You question, thinking he’s just being dramatic.

“Uh,” Peter chews on his lip, drawing a blank on the paragraph he’d written to make sure this went smoothly. “I love you,” Peter starts. “A lot, like you’re kind of my best friend and my person and I love you.” Peter’s voice shakes as he starts talking quicker. “And I know that it’s not easy and I know it sucks a lot of the time. You put up with a lot of my shit, more shit than you should have to and I still have no idea why you do. I come home bloody and bruised and you don’t even bat an eye, you just help. You’re there when I need you, even when I can’t tell you everything.” Peter shakes his head, realizing how much he was rambling. “You’re just, you’re the best person I’ve ever met and,” He lets go of your hands and pulls out a little velvet box from his hoodie, opening it to reveal a small diamond ring on a silver band. “Will...will you marry me?”

Peter’s face held so much honesty and love, admiration and anxiety. He asked your parents for permission. He asked your best friend for help picking out the ring, making sure the size was right and it wasn’t too much or too little. He even asked Tony how he should propose. Peter asked May, making sure this was the right time, that you were ‘the one’. He took every precaution, everyone assuming you’d say yes to him but that didn’t ease one single nerve. The decision was yours, not anyone else’s.

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked to him. Your heart felt like it was going to pump from your chest and hop right out of your window. It felt like it was falling down seven flights of stairs and walking away, perfectly fine. You’d have to be out of your damn mind to turn down Peter Parker.

“Of course.” Your mouth pulls into the biggest, uncontrollable smile imaginable.

“Yes?” Peter questions, the nerves washing away from the wrinkles across his forehead.

“Yes.”


	7. Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter asks you to dance at prom after requesting the perfect song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Little Things by One Direction

Your dark blue dress accented your curves perfectly. The gemstones gave your dress just a little bit of sparkle underneath the dimmed lighting of the venue. The dyed blue rose was wrapped around your wrist, a perfect fit. A silver locket accented your neckline, a perfect reminder of who held your heart, as if you really needed it.

“D-dance with me?” Peter asks as he returns from the DJ section of the prom.

“Of course.” You smile at your boyfriend of two years.

Peter took your hand in his as he walked you to the dance floor. He wore an all black suit with a dark blue tie that matched your dress. A boutonniere decorates the right side of his jacket, somehow you even managed not to prick him when you put it on. Peter’s hair was slicked back beside the smallest curl that laid against his forehead. His shoes shined almost as bright as your silver heels. You couldn’t help but laugh when you’d noticed. You were sure he just kept shining them to try and calm his nerves.

“What song did you request, Parker?” You asked as your heels tapped against the floor, Peter leading you to a clear opening on the dance floor.

“You’ll see.” He says over his shoulder.

“It’s gonna be cheesy, I know it.” You muse.

“Maybe.” Peter says, a blush crossing his face.

The song changes just as you reach the clearing. The next song comes on and the sound of an acoustic guitar starts echoing the venue that was decorated in the prom theme: happily ever after. Peter releases your hand only to allow his fingers to find your waist and pull you towards him while your arms wrap around his neck.

You smile as you lock eyes with the golden speckled eyes in front of you. “Little Things?”

“Mhm.” Peter hums as the two of you sway back and forth, in perfect rhythm with the music. “I-you know I’m not good with words.”

“Yeah, you do just fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“You think so?” Peter asks.

“Yeah,” You answer softly. “So, why this song?”

Peter bites his lip. “Because I love you.” A blush radiates through your face and your pulse quickens with the words you’d heard a hundred times before but tonight, tonight they seemed to mean so much more.

Maybe it was the twinkling of the fairy lights surrounding the entire venue. Or maybe the little, fancy glasses with a castle across them that were at every table as a party favor. It could have been the way Peter looked in a suit or how exquisite you looked, and felt for that matter. The song fit the mood and the words hit every beat of your heart. Whatever it was, you felt magical, felt it with Peter in that moment and a simple ‘I love you’ made you want to melt right into him.

“Like,” Peter takes a deep breath, the most fragile smile tugging at his lips. “Really, really, love you. It's everything. You wear bright colors on sunny days and black on days you wished you lived in the south." A small laugh escapes from your mouth as you recall your distaste for the wind that hurts your face. "And the way you tap your thumb against my hand to whatever song you're listening to and you don't even realize it. " Peter chuckles before continuing. "And the way your face lights up when your favorite show comes on." He closes the small space between you and places a chaste kiss to your forehead before resting his forehead against yours. "I love everything about you."

“Peter.” You say, trying with everything in you to bite back your smile that completely consuming your face, knowing damn well Peter had rehearsed this over and over in the mirror before picking you up.

“No, no, wait.” Peter shakes his head. “Really, I know sometimes, you struggle with things but I love everything about you and I don’t know what’s gonna happen after graduation but, I’ll be there for you, always. I’ve always loved you and I’ll always love you. It's always gonna be you and-” Peter’s voice falls soft and timid as his skin itches to pull you closer.

“I love you, too.” You respond, pressing your lips softly against his, two hearts beating as one.


	8. Love, Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding days are supposed to be magical and special, but when you’re marrying Peter Parker, they don’t always go as planned.

The white gown clung to your body like a sleeve. It was everything you ever dreamed off. The second you put the dress on, you knew. Tears brimmed in your eyes and you knew. You walked out in front of your mom, maid of honor, Pepper, May, all eyes on you and they even knew. You beamed like the sun on the first day of spring. Everyone knew. One look in the mirror and pure bliss and joy. It was your dress.

Now, today, was the day. The dress would sparkle under the lights while you walked down the aisle with your arm interlocked with your dad's and you’d see Peter. A stunning, tailored, black suit with a tie that matched the colors of your wedding. His hair would be slicked back besides that one curl that always hung in front of his forehead. You knew you’d cry before you reached him but it wouldn’t matter because you’d finally be marrying Peter Parker.

It was nearly time. Your hair was done and your makeup was perfected. Your veil cascading down your back and your bridal party were taking their places to exit your dressing room, that was until a knock sounded at the door. Your maid of honor opened it to reveal Ned in a simple tux, a boutonniere matching the wedding colors.

“Hey, y/n, can I talk to you real quick?” Ned asks and you excuse yourself, following him into the hallway.

“Spider-Man?” You ask.

“Yeah,” Ned nods, lightly hanging his head. “He said he was sorry and gave me a note to give you. He said he’d be back as soon as he could and Tony went with him to help.”

You let out a soft laugh with the roll of your eyes. “Can’t bad guys take a day off for once?”

“He’s got Tony. It’ll be alright.” Ned reassures, passing you the piece of paper.

“Yeah,” You nod with a heavy heart.

“You look nice by the way. Peter is probably gonna forget how to speak when he sees you.”

“Thanks, Ned.” You give a sincere smile before glancing at the note in your hands. “I’m gonna get back.”

“I’ll take care of the guests for you.”

The two of you make your separate ways. Your wedding party was sitting, waiting to find out what was going on. You came up with some off the shoulder lie about Peter’s job. Thye needed him least minute but it shouldn’t be too long. Of course, most of your wedding party wasn’t happy. They didn’t know about Peter being Spider-Man. They didn’t know he was busy saving the city, innocent people. They all just assume he cares more about his job than you but you deal with it. You know the truth and you accept it. It sucks, of course, it sucks, this is your wedding day and he’s out there risking his life but you understand that he has to do it. So, you sit and you wait.

And you wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Hours passed and there was no sign of Peter. No text. No phone call. No him bursting through the doors, bleeding and bruised with a lopsided, apologetic smile. Just, nothing. Silence. Ned kept checking in and after the third hour, he dismissed the guests. After hour four, you dismissed your wedding party, all of them looking like they were going to kill Peter themselves when they saw him next.

“You read his note yet?” Ned asks as he joins you in your room, leaving the door open in case Peter happened to stroll in.

“Nah, figured I’d wait until everyone left. I know it’s gonna make me cry.” You huff.

“Maybe you should read it now.” Ned suggests, him feeling worried for Peter and hurt for you.

“Guess, so.” You shrug and unfold the letter.

_“I’m so so sorry. I know this is supposed to be our day and I can’t start to explain how sorry I am but, I have to do this. I promise, I’ll be back soon. Tony is coming with, so don’t worry. I love you. I’m coming home, promise._

_Love, Peter.”_

“Says he’s sorry and he’s coming home.” You fold the paper up, biting your lip with the feeling of dread that sinks in your stomach.

Ned doesn’t answer however, his sight is set at the door frame. He lightly nudges your shoulder for you to look up. And for the split second it takes you to register to look up, your heart lifts with the hope that it’s Peter but it sunk right back to the pit of your stomach when your eyes landed on Tony. No Peter in sight, just Tony. A despair drenched Tony Stark.

You knew without the words coming from his mouth.

* * *

Your black dress clung to your body. Your hair was back in a tight bun. The redness of your eyes was on display for everyone to see. Your eyes were sunken in and the small bit of light that bled through the clouds burned. But, it was nothing compared to the constant stabbing, strangling pain your heart was in. And it only got worse.

May looked like she hadn’t slept and she hadn’t. Peter was her everything and now he’s gone. And Ben is gone. And her family is gone. She looked as though she’d age twenty years in only two days. Her hands shook in her lap, clutching a handkerchief that she was constantly moving to her eyes to wipe her tears.

Ned holds a straight face but every now and then, you’d catch his chin quivering and him taking in a deep breath, trying his hardest to stay put together. But, you weren’t sure if he was trying to stay put together for himself, for you, for May, or because Peter wouldn’t want him to be sad. Regardless, he was fucking trying and it wasn’t working.

And then there was Tony. His eyes shielded behind black sunglasses, the ones Peter picked out for Christmas the year prior. His left hand shook while he held it in his right hand. His mouth was slightly open and it was more than obvious he was holding himself together as much as he could but behind the dark sunglasses, his eyes were sunken in, puffy, and bloodshot.

Funerals are not happy. They are not a time where people celebrate the life of someone. They are a time where people mourn. Mourn someone that is never coming back. When you die, you die. That’s it and now you’re faced with the scary reality you knew would happen. The casket laid in front of you and inside was Peter and he was going to be six feet under and concrete would be poured over top. That was it. This was it. If you wanted to talk to him, you’d have to come to his grave, to the tombstone that reads ‘Peter Benjamin Parker, someone has to look out for the little guy, right?’ And you'd have to hope that he was looking out of the little guys in some type of afterlife where he could hear you and you weren't completely insane talking to a piece of concrete sticking out of the ground.

One by one, everyone took turns placing a white rose on top of the mahogany casket. Your fingers brushed against the wood when you placed your rose down, replaying the smile he flashed the night before he died. The way your heart soared with pure excitement that you’d be  _'Mrs. Parker'_  the following day. But now, you’re sitting down and your heart is wrapped in barbed wire and the casket is being lowered into the ground; and with every inch it moves, the barbed wire digs into your heart, swearing your heart was going to completely explode at any moment and the loudest sob would escape your lips. But, nothing. More silence.

The casket went into the ground and everyone stood up to leave, knowing this was the end and it was real. The cement truck poured cement into the grave and with a heavy sigh, you wiped the tears that managed to slip down your cheeks and you got up. Tony was waiting for you at the very back.

“He would have wanted you to have it.” Tony says, handing you the red mask.

“Yeah,” You mumble, taking the mask and rubbing your thumbs over the fabric that shielded his blush when you kissed him the first time.

“I’m sorry.” Tony says.

“He’s coming home.” Tony’s brows furrowed with your words and you shook your head, having Peter's last words you’ll ever have from him memorized. You take a deep breath and directly quote the boy with a shy smile. “I’m coming home, promise.”


	9. Give Me Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s managed to keep his Spider-Man identity hidden from you until he comes home bloody one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intentional ASM1 parallel.  
> Also a little inspired by Looking On The Bright Side by Boys Of Fall

Your bed was soft and warm all except for the empty side beside you but that wasn't anything you weren't already used to. Peter was out late a lot working most nights which left you going to bed alone but, you always woke up with his arms hugging tightly around your waist. Tony Stark tended to keep him busy and you didn't quite understand what he could possibly be doing. You just knew that it wasn't very good.

Some mornings, you'd wake up in his arms but when your eyes would open, they'd land on blue and purple bruises decorating his pale skin. You picked up his delayed movements sometimes, as if he were in some type of pain but Peter always said he was fine. He was clumsy but there was something. However, you avoided the topic. Mostly just afraid of what the truth would be.

Normally, you'd barely wake up when he'd crawl into bed or not at all. Peter was good at sneaking into the apartment and keeping quiet but tonight was different. There was a loud noise coming from the kitchen that startled you awake. Your heart beat against your ribcage as you sat up in bed, looking around the dark room. Peter wasn't around so you tossed the blankets from you and grabbed the baseball bat you had beside your nightstand. Cautiously and quietly you made your way to your kitchen, bat rested on your shoulder and ready to swing if it was an intruder.

You reached the kitchen to see someone hunched over the sink, a hoodie over their head and their body visibly shaking. Only one hand rested against the white porcelain holding his weight while the other seemed to be elevated to his face.

"Peter?" You ask, lowering the bat and setting it against the wall.

"Fine." He mumbles.

"What's wrong?" You question taking a few steps closer to him.

"It's nothing." He mumbles, his voice soft and cracked. "Go back to bed. I'll be there soon."

You let out a soft sigh and walked beside him, placing your hand on his bicep that was covered by the blue fabric of his hoodie. You looked up at him, trying to see under his hood but he avoided you, turning his head and moving away from your touch. Your brows furrowed in response. This wasn't like Peter. He never backed away, ever. He could be furious with you and he'd still never avoid your touch.

"Okay, what happened?" Your voice is stern as you watch him. Peter remained silent as he kept his right hand to his face, shoving the left in his pocket. "Take off the hood."

"Y/n, it's fine." Peter mumbles.

"Take off the hood." You grit your teeth as Peter leans against the counter, his head hung as he faces you. "Peter!"

A shaking hand comes up from his pocket and pulls the back of his hood, revealing his face. His right hand remained covering his right eye with what should have been a white rag. His left eye held an already turning black bruise. But, that wasn't your concern. You were solely worried about his other eye.

"Let me see." You swallow hard as you took a step forward.

"Please, just go to bed." Peter pleads.

"No." You shake your head. "Let me see it."

"I'm begging, please just go. I promise it's fine. I'm fine. It's okay." Peter rambles, his voice trembling with every word, him wanting to break down right then and there.

"I'm not going to bed with you hurt.  **You're bleeding.** " You grab his wrist of his right hand and he allows you to pull it away.

The sight completely turns your stomach. There was a large gash spread from just above his temple, across his eye, and to the top of his lip. Blood dripped from the wound as Peter avoided eye contact, looking right to the floor. You could see the muscle of his cheek moving with every shallow breath he took. Of course, you'd seen fake muscle in TV shows and animated versions in biology textbooks from school but to actually  _see it_ , to see it with  _Peter_ this injured, in real life, standing in front of you; that was completely different. If you could, you'd have burst into tears.

"Peter." Your jaw falls open as your voice is soft, etched in pain.

"Please," Peter begs moving the blood covered rag to his face again. "Go to sleep."

"I-I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head and pry your eyes from him, grabbing his free hand. "You need to go and get that stitched up, alright?"

"No, no, no, no. I can't." Peter shakes his head frantically.

"Okay, you know what?" You breathe heavily with a breaking heart. "You have to tell me what's going on."

"Nothing, really." Peter's voice is a pitiful whine, piercing your heart.

"You're fucking bleeding at two in the fucking morning. I can literally see the muscle in your damn cheek. Your other eye looks like someone took a slapshot to your damn face. You come home late at night and I notice bruises and you walking as if you're in pain. Peter, you gotta tell me what's going on. Please."

"I...I..." Peter licks his lips, his left eye barely able to the hold his tears back. "I don't want you to leave."

You chuckle dryly with his words. "If I was gonna leave, I would have left after the 10th science pun you made the first week we were dating. I'm kind of in it for the long run, Parker." He gave the weakest smile you'd ever witnessed but not a word left him. "You, you gotta give me something." You shrug your shoulders. "You have to otherwise I'll take you to the hospital myself."

"No, y/n. I can't go." Peter's voice rises as he readjusts the bloody rag.

"Please, tell me." For the first time, your eyes lock with his uncovered one and the boy had never looked so distraught or hurt. "Come on." You grab his hand again and start pulling him to the bathroom. "Just, something." You say as he sits on the toilet seat while you dig through the medicine cabinet for the first aid kit and disinfectant.

"You're gonna freak out if I tell you." Peter mumbles.

"Again, your muscle is showing. I think it's fine." You reassure as you rest everything on the counter before moving to stand between his legs.

"Can't tell anyone, you gotta swear." Peter's brows raise.

"I promise." You shrug one shoulder, taking the drenched rag from him and tossing in the sink, a grimace grossing your face with the sight of the wound again.

You reach for a new rag and start wetting it with the disinfectant as you feel Peter moving beside you with the sound of a zipper hitting your ears. You turn back to face him, rag in hand but instead of just the faded blue of his hoodie, you're met with the bright red and blue colors of the Spider-Man suit, a black spider symbol dead center of his chest. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head with the sight. All this time he's managed to keep Spider-Man a secret from you. Of course, now all the late nights and random injuries made sense. Even him being close with Tony Stark made sense. Honestly, you felt kind of stupid for not just figuring it out yourself.

"Uh," Your eyes don't move from the blue and red suit as your jaw hangs open. "You're like...Spider-Man."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to. I did but I knew you'd worry and I didn't want you to leave and I'm so sorry but I promise it's okay and everything is fine and just please don't freak out and I can't lose you, especially over this and-"

"Peter." You cut off his rambling. "It's okay." You nod, giving him a soft expression. "I mean, like wow. Give me a minute because holy shit but, it's okay."

"Yeah?" Peter asks, his brows furrowed as if not believing you.

"Yeah, thought you were in Fight Club or something so finding out you're actually a superhero," The corner of your mouth tugs into a smirk as you lean closer to him. "Kind of badass."

"Think so?" Peter asks, his caramel eyes filled with hope.

"Hell yes." You nod, laughing. "You're covered in blood and there's tissue exposed and it's gross as hell but you're taking it like a champ, just to protect strangers."

"Thank you," Peter's voice is gentle and sincere.

"Nah, you won't be thanking me in a few seconds. Spider-Man or not, you're still Peter and you suck dealing with pain."

"Hey!" Peter groans, offended. "I deal with it fine!"

"Yeah, okay." You mock him.

"Come on, then. Clean it and sew it up."

"If you're sure." You shake your head and move the rag to Peter's flesh and he immediately winces. "You okay?" You stick out your bottom lip which grants you narrowed eyes, making you laugh. "Alright, I'll go fast."

You clean the wound and after a few minutes, Peter had gotten used to the stinging and stopped flinching and biting back grunts. But, him being used to the pain didn't last long when you literally had to use a small sewing kit to close the still bleeding gash. You had him bite down and yet another rag as you pierced his skin with a needle. He groaned into the rag and gripped your leg. His grip was so strong you knew you'd have a bruise but you didn't let that stop you from finishing the job as quickly and efficiently as possible.

"Okay, I think you're kind of stitched up." You scrunch your face at the makeshift stitches.

"Thanks." Peter says, his eyes now drenched with sleep.

"Really, though, you okay? Sure you don't need an ER?"

"No, no. Fine." Peter shakes his head and gets up while you started putting everything away. "I've had worse." He moves to the sink and starts washing the blood from his hands.

"Alright, fine, tough guy. Let's get your ass to bed." You joke once everything was put away and cleaned up, the bloody rags left to soak in the sink.

"Yes, please." Peter gives you a cheeky grin.


	10. Jailbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter comes to bail you out of jail after you lose your temper which leads to a heart to heart between the two of you.

The station was cold and dull. Your legs swung as you sat on the bench, staring at the floor. The jail cell bars locked you away from human contact of the officer sitting on his desk doing paperwork. You really weren’t the kind of person to go and get arrested but here you are, past eleven and alone after punching someone in the face.

“Can I have my phone call, please?” You ask, looking over to the desk.

The officer looks to the pay phone where someone else who’d been arrested before you was just hanging up. “Yeah, hold on.” He says calmly, finishing up whatever you’d pulled him away from.

Once done, he gets up and unlocks your cell, allowing you out. He leads you to the payphone, inserting the change and allowing you to dial the number you happened to actually know by heart. It rings a few times before it’s answered.

“Hello?” Peter's voice comes through remarkably confused.

“Peter?” You ask.

“Yeah? Y/n?”

“Yeah, um, can you come bail me out?” You ask hesitatingly.

“What?” Peter nearly yells.

“Please and please don’t tell my parents, okay? They’ll totally flip their shit and probably kick me out or something. I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Which station?” Peter asks as you hear him rummaging around in the background.

“The one around 34th street.”

“I’ll be there soon.” Peter says before the line goes dead.

You hang up the phone and the officer leads you back to your cell before going back to his desk.

“Your eye okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, taking your seat.

“You start feeling dizzy or nauseous, just say something. Don’t want you passing out or anything.”

“Will do.” You nod again, not really wanting to talk despite the officer actually being nice and just doing his job.

Twenty minutes of you swinging your legs back and forth went by before Peter finally came. Your eyes fell on him as he said he was there to bail you out. The officer behind the desk got all the paperwork and had Peter sign once his ID was taken. Once everything was taken care of, the officer allowed you out of the cell and informed you that you’d have a court date and everything was in the paperwork but to expect more to come in the mail within the next few days.

You and Peter made your way out of the station, not a single word said between the two of you until you reached May’s car. You assumed Peter told May and she allowed him to take the car to come and get you since she was nowhere in sight.

“Thanks for coming.” You say softly.

“Ye-yeah, yeah. I’ll always come.” Peter says as he takes his hoodie off and wraps it around your shoulders, noticing you shivering against the cold New York air. “Are you okay?” Peter asks as you stand against the passenger side of the car.

“Fine.” You shrug a shoulder, holding his hoodie close to you.

“Your eye is bruised.” Peter’s brows furrow with hurt and worry.

“He got one good punch in is all.”

“Y/n, wh-what the hell happened?” Peter asks as he tosses his hands out, you dodging his eyes.

“Can-can I just stay...with you tonight?”

Peter licks his lips and nods. “Yeah, we’ll, uh, we’ll get home and you tell me, okay?”

“Yeah.” You answer plainly as you open the car door and get in.

The ride to Peter’s apartment is silent, not even the music playing in the background. The streetlights dazed by you while snow started to fall from the sky, decorating the already snowing roads from the night before. Salt trucks passed by, likely making more noise than doing actual good with the dropping temperatures. Your face illuminated with a reply from your mom, saying it was fine you stayed at Peter's for the night.

You reach Peter’s apartment and he leads up to his apartment. He unlocks the door and May is sitting in the living room, likely waiting for the two fo you to return. She immediately gets up and reaches you.

“What happened?” May rushes. “Are you okay? We should probably get some ice on that eye.” May says as she walks off the kitchen, you and Peter following her.

“It’s fine, really.” You shake your head.

“You were arrested. I don’t call that fine.” May retorts.

“Yeah,” You nod with shame. “Still a chance the charges will be dropped.”

“That’s not at all what I meant.” May says as she hands you a bag of ice wrapped in a towel.

“May, is it okay if y/n stays? Their parents are gonna flip.” Peter butts in before you could say anything.

May looks you over with furrowed brows and sad eyes. “Yeah, that’s fine. I wanna hear what happened in the morning, alright?”

“Okay.” You nod and send her a soft smile while putting the ice to your eye.

Peter leads you to his room, shutting the door behind the two of you before offering you pajamas. You’d been friends forever so sharing his clothes and sleeping over was nothing out of the norm. You spent just as much time at his apartment as you did your own house. You make Peter turn around while you change and get comfortable. A Star Wars t-shirt hung loose on your torso and grey sweatpants hugged your hips.

“So, you, uh, you wanna tell me what happened?” Peter asks as you sit beside him on the bed.

“I do, I just, ya know. I don’t know.” You shake your head.

“You can tell me.” Peter nudges you with his elbow.

“Ugh.” You groan and lay back, moving the ice back to your eye. “I don’t know.”

“Come onnnnn.” Peter says, turning to face you.

“You can’t tell anyone, alright?” You peak at him from under the towel.

“I won’t.” Peter reassures.

“So, I was at this club and I was gonna leave ya know? Cause it’s getting late and my parents still don’t like me out super late. So, I’m walking out and this douchey guy was standing outside, basically like he was waiting to just harass everyone that walks out and you know, that bullshit called ‘freedom of speech’ and he wasn’t technically on the property. So, fuck it, yeah?” You ramble as Peter watches you, growing more confused as he waits for you to get to the point. “So, he starts making comments, ya know? Like as I’m just walking, trying to mind my own damn business. And ya know? Like. Ugh.”

“What’d he say?” Peter’s voice holds less confusion with more concern and the smallest touch of what could be annoyance.

“You know how like, decent human beings don’t like slurs?” Peter nods. “He used one and I didn’t like it so I punched him and he punched back and some passing people saw it and called the cops.”

“What’d they call you?” Peter’s voice goes soft as his eyes narrow.

“I don’t like the word.” You mumble. “It was a gay slur.”

Peter’s eyes widen as he shakes his head. “W-what?”

“Yeah, was leaving a club and they were having an LGBT night so I went. So, by the way, I don’t think I’m straight. I don’t know.” You confess and completely avoid looking at him, rather keeping your stare at the bunk above you.

“Not straight?” Peter questions.

“Yeah, I don’t know, ya know? Like you’re attractive obviously.” Peter’s cheeks start glowing red with your words. “But so is MJ and Ned. And a lot of celebrities, guys, girls, whatever. But I don’t know if like that means anything or, ya know?” You sigh, trying to explain yourself.

“Uh, I mean,” Peter rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t think you have to figure it out now, like if you don’t want to and it doesn’t matter. Who cares who you like and who you don’t?” You remove the ice from your eye and stare at him with a quirked. “Like, I mean, you’re still you.” Peter chuckles.

“I mean, I don’t know if I’m not straight, like for sure? I guess?”

“Okay.” Peter says nonchalantly. “There’s websites and stuff with that information and I know there’s community clubs and everything. I’ll go with you if you want to go tp one.”

“Really?” You sit up on your elbows with Peter’s words.

“Y-yeah.” Peter shrugs. “Of course.” Peter gives you a soft smile. “But, next time, instead of punching someone, can you call me so I can just web them up myself?”

You toss your head back with laughter. “Trust me, I’ll totally be calling you from now on. My eye fucking hurts but at least I can cross getting arrested off my bucket list.”

Peter laughs and tosses his pillow at you. “Go to bed.”


	11. Baking Mishaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Peter decide to spend Valentine’s Day baking.

Valentine’s Day, a day where everything red, pink, and happy endings are embraced. Everyone is down on one knee proposing, roses decorate counters and dinner tables. PDA is everywhere you look and this is the one day, no one even bothers to complain. It’s the day to embrace your significant other, completely shamelessly. Show them off more than any other day. But, that’s not what you and Peter had in mind.

Neither of you were big on going out. You’re homebodies and you both decided that for your first Valentine’s Day, you’d spend the day inside. On Peter’s request, he wanted to do whatever you wanted. So, you suggested rom-coms and baking cookies for each other.

It was only noon and there was already a knock on your apartment door. You hurried to your door, cheerfully opening it and being met with a bouquet of red and pink roses covering Peter’s face.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Peter chimes as he lowers the flowers, the largest smile splitting his face.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Peter.” You smile and welcome him inside with a kiss.

“I got you flowers.” He hands them to you proudly.

“Thank you. They’re really pretty.” You blush as you walk over to the cabinet that contains a vase.

“Are we still making cookies?” Peter asks, his eyes wide with hope.

“Duh!” You say as you fill up the vase with water.

“Good, cause you make the best cookies.” Peter gushes.

“They’re even better when you help make them.” You quip.

“Maybe.” Peter remarks. “Okay, where do we start?” He asks once you rest the vase of flowers in the center of the kitchen table.

“Okay so,” You take Peter’s hand and walk him to the counter. “We gotta get all the ingredients first. So, you get the flour and sugar from that cupboard and I’ll get the milk and eggs.”

You and Peter get all of the ingredients and lay them out perfectly on the island. You grab all the stuff you need to measure while setting the recipe in front of the two of you. Peter preheats the oven while you start getting some of the ingredients ready. You have Peter start on the flour and of course, he just has to spill it. Flour covered your counter and Peter was only half embarrassed. He mostly just found it funny.

“Instead of pouring the flour, you could have just scooped it out.” You muse, staring at Peter’s now white hoodie.

“You could have just scooped it out.” Peter mimics as he grabs a little bit of flour and flicks it at you.

“Ohhhhh, you’re hilarious!” You retort, following his action but flicking the flour in his face.

“Hey!” Peter says, grabbing more flour.

“Stop!” You grab even more, laughing as you just dump the flour on top of his head.

“Oh, we’re gonna play that game?” Peter asks, locking eyes with you as he grabs the entire thing of flour.

“Peter….don’t.” You warn, backing away from him.

“Nope. You’re gonna get it.” Peter taunts as he inches closer to you.

You start running away from him but you’re pulled back when something snags the back of your shirt, tugging you towards Peter. Your back hits his chest and flour is dumped over your head, cascading to your floor. You brush as much of it as you can as you turn to face him.

“That’s cheating! You can’t use your webshooters!”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Peter scrunches his nose, moving his head side to side.

“Oh? You wanna know…” You go back towards the counter where the rest of the ingredients are sat. “I’m gonna do?” You grab one of the eggs and eye him.

“No.” Peter says with wide eyes.

“It’s just an egg, Peter.” You give him a sly grin as you walk towards him.

“Don’t you dare.” Peter says, backing against the sink.

You walk up to him and lean against his chest, Peter not really thinking you’d crack an egg over his head but he was so wrong. You cracked it open and the yolk breaks over his head, everything sliding down his face.

“But I just did.” You beam up at him.

“That’s it!” Peter says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to the island where the rest of the ingredients are sitting.

“Peter!” You yell as he grabs the milk.

“Nope!” He says through a laugh as he pours the milk over your head.

From then on, everything you had on the counter was being shoved in each other faces or dumped over your heads. You knew you’d both have to clean it all up but in the moment it didn’t matter. Your laughs mixed together in harmony with the occasional scream from you and the yell from Peter when he’d slip. It wasn’t a conventional Valentine’s Day date but dating Peter wasn’t exactly conventional either. What it was though, was way more fun than either of you would have had had you went out to dinner at some fancy restaurant.

“Okay, okay, truce.” Peter says with a deep breath as he was laid out on the kitchen floor, you above him with another egg.

“Swear?” You ask, not lowering.

“White flag.” Peter says, waving his hand in the air.

“Thank god.” You sigh, leaning against the cabinets of the island. “I’m tired.”

“You’re a mess, too.” Peter quips as he sits up.

“And you’re not?” You retort.

“Nope.” Peter shakes his head, his curls flinging milk and egg over to you.

“Gross!” You grimace through a laugh.

“Should probably shower?” Peter suggests, a sly grin coming to his face but his eyes are as innocent as a puppy’s.

“Nice try, Parker.” You wiggle your brows. “My shower, I go first and you can start cleaning.”

“Fine.” Peter sticks out his bottom lip. “But I get a kiss first.”

“You’re a child.” You roll your eyes and slide over to him, kissing his mouth.

Peter’s hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheek as your hands find the back of his neck.

“I’ve really gotta shower. We smell.” You mumble into his mouth before kissing him again.

“Not stopping you.” Peter mumbles, not really pulling away.

He whines when you do remove your mouth from his. “Start cleaning and I’ll be quick and we can get back to that.” You smirk before getting up and heading to the shower. “Make sure to shut off the oven!”

* * *

Clothes were in the wash and Peter had his arm behind you, fingers rubbing circles against your shoulder as your arm laid across his torso. The kitchen had been cleaned and you both had showered. It took over an hour to clean but now you were both exhausted and happily cuddled on the couch watching 13 Going On 30.

“Hey.” Peter whispers as he kisses the top of your head. You looked up to him with curious eyes. “I, uh, I got you something.”

“Thought we agreed not to get each other anything?” You question with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” Peter nods. “But,” He licks his lips. “I had to.” A shy smile comes to his face as he gestures for you to sit up.

“What is it?” You ask as Peter gets up and heads to the door where his coach was hung.

“You’ll see.” He says, his voice not as confident as earlier. He comes back and takes his seat beside you, a larger silver box was in his hand. You eye it with questionable eyes before looking to him. “I thought you’d like it.” Peter chews his lip as he removes the lid to reveal a silver necklace with a ‘P’ charm.

“Peter…” You say quietly as you look at the necklace. It was simple but absolutely perfect.

“Do you like it?” Peter’s brows raise and knit together with hope and nerves.

“Of course!” You exclaim. “It’s perfect.” You lean over and kiss him softly. “Thank you.”

“Turn around and I’ll put it on.” Peter beams brighter than the sun with his words.

You do as told and move your hair. The necklace comes over your face and around your neck as Peter latches it. It hangs dead center of your chest, shining against the dull lights of your living room.

“You’re the cheesiest person ever.” You say as you turn back to face him. “But I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, too.” Peter’s cheeks start to hurt from smiling but he doesn’t bother trying to bite back his smile.


	12. Peter, Peter Parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Valentine’s Day around the corner, Peter’s shyness ends up making him your secret admirer.

Five days. That’s it. You adored Valentine’s Day and it was only five days away. Around school you heard people making plans with their significant others. Other students were discussing how they were going to ask their crush out. It was heartwarming and you couldn’t help but smile. No matter what, significant other or not, you enjoyed the day and looked forward to spending it watching your favorite films and eating plenty of candy.

You opened your locker to get ready to head to the cafeteria but when you did, a little note fell from inside and onto the floor. You picked it up with furrowed brows and it had your name scribbled across the front of it. You looked around but everyone was minding their own business. Questions ran through your mind. Who would leave a note in your locker? Rather than just give it you themselves?

“Coming?” MJ asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Oh, yeah.” You nod, shoving your books in your locker and putting the note in your pocket.

MJ makes small talk as you head to the cafeteria but go your separate ways while she goes to the vending machine to get a drink and you go to your spot at the lunch table. You took that chance to read your note.

_“I’m not too good with words when speaking, but I like to think I’m pretty okay with writing. So, here’s this: you’re remarkably beautiful and the smartest person here. Your smile lights up any room you walk into (no, it’s not the fluorescents). Han has Leia and Kylo has Rey and I was kind of hoping one day I could have you...if you'll have me anyway? And I hope you don’t think this is creepy or weird because I’d hope you’d write back, only if you want to.” -S.A. (secret admirer)_

You blush while reading and look around the cafeteria. The handwriting looked vaguely familiar but you weren’t even the slightest bit sure who could have written it. There were plenty of boys in all of your classes and you’d spoken to most of them by this point in the school year. Who is too nervous to talk to you in person but adorable enough to write you a note and yet lame enough to make a Star Wars reference?

“What’s that?” MJ asks as she takes her seat.

“Gotta note.” You state, the blush not leaving your face as you pass it to her so she can read it.

“It’s so corny.” She chuckles.

“Yeah, but it’s sweet!” You defend.

“You gonna write him back?”

“I don’t really know how? Like, I don’t know him or his locker or anything? So how can I?”

“Just leave it sticking out of your locker.” MJ shrugs a shoulder as she opens her water. “Do it before you go to first hour.”

“Aren’t you just full of bright ideas?” You remark, folding the note and putting it in your pocket.

On the other end of the lunch table, Peter had his eyes plastered on you, listening to you tell MJ about the note. His heart nearly beat out of his chest when he saw you reading it. You had no idea it was him but he was horrified by the thought that you somehow would and you’d even be repulsed but then you smiled and your cheeks turned red. And you told MJ you were going to write back. Now his heart was beating a mile minute with pure and utter joy.

“Can’t believe you actually did it.” Ned whispers.

“I know, I know.” Peter whispers back, pulling his attention from you before you would notice. “Think she knows it’s me?”

“She just said she didn’t know who did it.” Ned reiterates.

“Right, right.” Peter sighs. “But what if she does?”

“Isn’t that the plan?”

“I-I mean, not yet.” Peter runs a hand through his hair.

“Well, just go with it, man. She seemed to like it.”

Lunch ended and you kept thinking of how you were going to respond to your secret admirer while Peter was excited and terrified to see if you really would write back. So, when the next day rolled around and Peter crept past your locker when he should have been using the restroom during first hour, his heart jumped into his throat when he saw a little white piece of paper. He grabbed it and it had “S.A.” written in your handwriting across it. Peter smiled and quickly put it in his hoodie pocket before heading back to class.

Once he was seated, he took the note out and immediately started reading it.

_“Thank you, whoever you are. To answer your question, no it’s not creepy or weird. It’s cliche and cheesy, but most of all, adorable. I thought it was sweet, really, especially the Star Wars reference. Nice touch. But, I don’t understand why you don’t talk to me? I promise, I’m not mean or anything. Who are you?” - y/n_

Peter bit his lip with rosy red cheeks and a smile as bright as the snow on a sunny day. You wrote back and you don't think he’s creepy or weird. You actually think it’s sweet. Peter wanted to burst from his seat with joy. But, instead, he ripped a piece of paper from his notebook and immediately started writing you.

Lunch rolled around and you found the next note in your locker. You smiled happily, putting it in your pocket before MJ came up to you.

“Did he respond?” She asked as you started walking.

“Uh-huh.” You chided.

“Well, what’d he say?”

“I don’t know!” You blush, cheeks burning. “I haven’t read it yet.”

“Get on it.” MJ urges before heading off to the vending machine, following routine.

You take your seat and open your note just as you did the day before.

_“Well, I would tell you who I am but, the truth is, I’ve had a crush on you since the beginning of the year and you make me really nervous. I think writing is much easier. But, enough about that. Do you have plans this Valentine’s Day? I know, weird question given my previous statement but, I am curious.” -S.A._

“So?” MJ says as she takes her seat.

“Won’t tell me but apparently, he’s had a crush on me all year?” You say a little confused, trying to think of the guys in your classes. “Asked what I was doing on Valentine’s Day.”

“And yet he won’t tell you?” MJ quirks a brow.

“Nope.” You shrug, a little disappointed.

“Gonna write back?”

“Of course.” You chuckle.

Peter overheard you talking, a definite plus of having heightened senses. He smirked as he watched you pull out a piece of paper from a notebook you had brought with you this time. His guess was that you had already intended on writing back before even reading it. Peter didn’t actually think writing you notes would do anything but now you were kind of talking. He was getting somewhere.

“When are you gonna tell her?” Ned asks, pulling his stare from you.

“Uh, hadn’t thought that far yet.”

“Dude,” Ned shakes his head with disappointment.

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugs. “Maybe Friday. I asked what she’s doing so, maybe.”

“Man, you’ve gotta tell her. She clearly likes this cliche shit you’re doing.” Ned muses as he glances to you. You held the cheeriest smile in the entire cafeteria. Ned actually had to agree that at this point, you really could brighten up any room.

“I know, I know.” Peter groans.

* * *

The next day comes around and following the day prior’s routine, Peter went to your locker during first hour and saw a note sticking out. He snatched it before heading to class and reading it.

_“I don’t have plans, well, not really. I was thinking of just hanging out with MJ if nothing else, why? You should give me hints and see if I can figure out who you are and if not, you should tell me by Valentine’s Day. It’ll eat me alive if I don’t find out soon.” -Y/n_

Peter chewed his lip, debating if he should give you hints. He wanted to. He wanted you to know it was him and he wanted to ask you on a date for Friday but he questioned why someone like you would even give someone like him the time of day. But, he figured it was now or never so he wrote you a note, giving you a hint and agreeing that he’d tell you who he was come Friday.

You and MJ read your note at lunch and you started scanning the cafeteria. 

_"We share the same gym class."_

Gym class was the largest class of the school. Most classes held around twenty students where gym held well over forty. He wasn’t exactly making your guessing easy.

“Any ideas?” MJ asks.

“Uh, there’s Kyle?” You question. He was on the quieter side and you did have gym with him.

“Asked Vee on a date in Spanish.” MJ counters.

“Harry?”

“Harry would just tell you.” MJ shrugs.

“I don’t know! Our class is huge.” You groan as you put your head down.

“He’s telling you Friday anyway, don’t worry about it.” MJ chides.

“Fair enough.” You say as you put the note in your hoodie.

Peter was slightly relieved you were clueless that it was him but also a little worried. He wanted his name to come to your head. Of course, if his name did, that would mean you noticed him but Peter wasn’t a name you ever thought of saying. So, it left him cautiously eavesdropping and watching you during your last hour gym class.

MJ read while you scanned the students. Everyone minded their own business and didn’t give you any clue who your admirer was. You wanted to know more than anything and Friday would not come soon enough if you wouldn’t be able to figure it out.

* * *

_“Okay so I’m figured out you’re not Kyle, Harry, Justin, or Mark based on how they acted with their girlfriends or other girls in gym. So, next clue please? And, you’d have to tell me who you are if you really want to take me out for Valentine’s Day, but I’ll keep the day open.” - y/n_

Peter reread the note over and over to make sure he had read your last sentences correctly. In his previous letter, he’d asked you if you’d consider getting coffee on Valentine’s Day. He never thought you’d agree, especially without knowing exactly who he was but you did. As long as he revealed himself, you would go. However, that didn’t stop the nerves from flooding his veins. Nonetheless, he wrote back with another clue.

By lunch, you were again sitting with MJ and the two of you went over another list of boys after reading that your admirer didn’t have a lot of friends, again not narrowing down the list much.

“What about Ned?” You quirk a brow and look down the table, where Ned was talking to Peter about something you couldn’t hear.

“Ned? I mean, he seems like someone who would just ask.” MJ says, shrugging her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he just says what’s on his mind. He went on about Star Wars in English even though no one was paying any attention. Someone who can do that, would just tell you.”

“But he doesn’t have many friends and he’s in our gym class and you just said he mentioned Star Wars.”

“Yeah, him and another fifteen guys you haven’t narrowed down. Star Wars is a big franchise. That doesn't really a lot.” 

You groaned and started on your next note while Peter narrowed his eyes at Ned.

“What?” Ned quirked a brow.

“She thinks it’s you.” Peter mumbles.

Ned tosses his head back with laughter, glancing over to you and back to Peter. “I’m sorry, dude but talk about irony.”

“She guesses you, why not me?” Peter groaned, staring at you as your pen moved quickly against the paper.

“It’s almost Friday.” Ned reminds him.

With that, lunch ended and the rest of your day went by, leaving you with no more answers than before. When next day came around, you and Peter followed your new routine. He plucked the note from your locker and read it in his first period before writing back and slipping the note in your locker before lunch. The note contained another small clue, but did it was one that did help you narrow down the boys. He said he also had chemistry with you. That lead you to only five boys. Roger, Flash, Derek, Shawn, and Joey.

Flash was thrown out. He’s too arrogant to just write a note. MJ helped toss out Joey since he asked Rachel out with a rose before school had started that day. By the end of lunch, you only had three boys left and you weren’t sure if you’d be getting another note. The next day was Valentine’s Day and your secret admirer could always bail and not really tell you. So, you wrote your, likely to be, last note again asking who he was before the end of the day tomorrow.

At the other end of the table, Peter was getting more and more annoyed. You had gym with him, he only really had Ned as a friend, and you had Chemistry with him. Why wasn’t he even listed on the people you named off? Flash was listed and he wasn’t. Peter was annoyed and genuinely hurt he was that far off your radar.

* * *

Today was the day. It was finally Valentine’s Day as your routine went on, Peter plucked the note for the final time, reading your final plea not to bail and just tell you who he was. Which, with a deep breath, he put your note in his hoodie, deciding he would just tell you right after school when you were by your locker. So, when you reached your locker before lunch, no note fell from your locker. Nothing. Disappointed flooded you as your head hung.

“You alright?” MJ asks as she reaches you.

“No note and no sign of him.” You mumble, shutting your locker door.

“Hey, if he flakes, he’s not worth it anyway.” MJ states.

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes and enter the cafeteria.

You and MJ take your usual seats and you start going over the final three guys, hoping one of them will come and just tell you already. You were horribly annoyed and disappointed and almost thinking this could all be some rude joke between whoever it was and their friends. You were actually so worried about it that you wouldn’t stop talking about it. MJ was tired of you by the time gym rolled around. But MJ wasn’t the only one about to completely lose their shit over your constant questioning. Peter was ready to blow.

“It has to be Shawn. He’s the only left.” You mumble for the hundredth time as you’re sitting on the bleachers in front of Peter and Ned.

“So, go ask him.” MJ groans, pulling her stare from her book to glare at you.

“I can just ask him.”

“Yeah, you can. He’s over there.”

“He should just tell me.”

“Oh my god!” Peter yells from behind you, causing you and MJ to turn around and Ned to look at him with wide eyes. “It’s me! I’m the person that’s been writing you notes all week.” Peter blurts out and your jaw drops while Ned looks completely stunned and MJ totally amused. Peter quickly realized what he just did and that’s not at all how he wanted to tell you. He wanted to give you a different note signed with his name but not in front of everyone, not until after school where he could just go home if you turned him down. But he couldn’t take hearing you mention another guy one more time. “Uh, I-I-I, I mean, uh, yeah. Hi.” Peter blushes while your jaw still hangs open.

“You?” You finally say. “Peter? Peter Parker.”

“Yeah…” Peter says, biting his lip.

“Really?”

Peter nods. “I’m sorry I know I should have just told you but you make me nervous and I could never get a full sentence out without stuttering and if I'm not stuttering I’m rambling and you make me nervous so it’s even worse and I’m doing that right now so I’m gonna be quiet now.” Peter says so fast, you, Ned, and MJ narrow your eyes at him trying to process every word that left his mouth.

“You like me?”

“Yeah…” Peter nods as he swallows hard.

“I didn’t think you did.” You giggle. “Because you never talk to me.”

“Well, uh, you, uh you thought it was Shawn.”

“Yeah, thought it was everyone besides you. You’re like a fucking genius and you have that Stark Internship and you’re really cute. I just never thought it’d be you.”

“Wh-what? Really? You-you think I’m smart? And...cute?” Peter’s voice is quiet as MJ and Ned might as well have popcorn to continue to watch the two of you interact.

“Uh, yeah?” You chuckle. “Of course.” You give him a bashful shrug.

“Uh, well, hey, um, are...do you still...wann get coffee..with me?”

“Absolutely.”


	13. Almost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when you see your almost happy without you?

Almost. It's a simple word, very little meaning. For most people, that is. It's a word used to describe something that was close but wasn't achieved or didn't happen. The Blackhawks almost won the Stanley Cup. The concert was almost canceled due to rain. Wendy, Michael, and John almost stayed in Neverland. Almost is an adverb. Nothing special. But, to Peter, it was. Almost was no longer a simple adverb he used when describing how close something was. Instead, he used it in the form of a noun.

You were his almost.

His friends asked about you. You were their friend, too but when people go their separate ways, sometimes it's easier to avoid certain for awhile. You were never together in the first place. So, when asked, he always responds with almost.

"I thought you were together?"

"Almost."

"Weren't you two together awhile?"

"Almost."

It was blatantly obvious to them and to Peter's aunt and everyone, that you two should have been together but you weren't. You never asked and Peter never got the chance. Because when people disappear for three months without a trace, it's hard to be with them. It's hard to forgive them. It is so fucking hard to pretend that they didn't abandon you when you needed them and Peter asked that of you. He asked that of you without even an explanation. A simple:

"Please, I can't tell you."

And

"I promise, it's okay. Yo-you just have to trust me."

Which was only followed by

"I'm so sorry. I-I am. I just, I'm sorry."

You were not together. Feelings were there, strong enough feelings to make the world stop, but Peter feared labels and labels didn't matter. And when he wanted to make it official, he was taken too soon and it left you alone. So, you were almost together. Almost a couple. Almost lovers. But you weren't.

People don't disappear for months for nothing. But he wouldn't tell you and you couldn't handle that and he knows that. He knew it then and he knows it now. He knows it now as he watches you dance with your new boyfriend at a mutual friend's wedding, one of the only mutual friends the two of you maintained. You're laughing and smiling, looking happy and bubbly. Not an ounce of sadness seems to be flowing through you as your spun around gracefully.

"Staring isn't healthy, dude." Ned says as he approaches Peter and takes a seat beside him.

"Yeah." Peter nods, taking a drink of the water at his table.

"She looks happy." Ned's voice is soft, almost pleading for Peter to move on.

"I know." Peter mumbles but doesn't move his stare from you.

Everything in him wished he could take back the day he didn't come home. The day everything changed. The day you thought he'd simply stood you up which turned into the day you thought he died. It was the day he made you think he died and he wanted to take it back but he can't change the past so he's left sitting alone at a table watching you dance with someone new. Wishing it were him, wishing he had the strength to come home. To tell you anything to keep you from walking away. But he didn't.

"I'm heading out." Peter mumbles to Ned as he reaches for his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Already?" Ned's brows furrow in partial disappointment.

"Yeah." Peter nods, taking one last glance at you but this time, you see him and your eyes lock for the first time in well over a year.

His mouth dried as he froze, standing there with sad and regretful eyes. You swore everyone around you could have heard your heartbreak if there wasn't music. Peter was always so full of life and happy. Peter Parker is someone who lit up everything around him even on his darkest days but this was different. He seemed to have a grey cloud hovering over him and it was about to start striking lightning at any time. The literal definition of physical sorrow.

But, he breaks eye contact with you first and rips the black jacket from the back of the chair and leaves, not a single word to Ned or you or anyone. Your eyes land on Ned who gives you a sorry smile before you look back to your date.

"Peter?" He asks, his hand holding one of yours while his other is rested on your hip.

"Peter." You confirm. You bite the inside of your cheek as your eyes lock with his and you know what you're about to say is fucking unfair but no one ever said life was fair. "I-I gotta-"

"Go? Follow him?" He asks, almost expecting those words to have been said at one point or another that night.

"I'm so sorry. I promise I didn't mean this. I just, this is just, this is something I have to do." You found yourself saying and almost wanting to roll your eyes at the words. The familiar words you'd swore you'd never tell anyone because they mean nothing but maybe you were wrong all along. Maybe those words hold some form of meaning you didn't realize until this exact second. Until you're the one that has to them to someone.

"It's fine. Go one." He jerks his head towards the door and you waste no more time in exiting the venue hall.

Your heels hit pavement as you walked as fast as you could. You knew Peter would be ahead of you, far ahead of you. Unless, of course, he stopped to let out a few huffs and control his anger and hurt. Which, that's exactly what he did. You reached the parking lot and spotted him staring at the sky, his hands dug deep into his dress lacks and his curls loose as if he'd ran his hand through his hair a hundred times since exiting the building.

"Peter." You say, just loud enough for him to hear.

His head comes down and his shiny black shoes slide against the asphalt to turn himself and face you. His face is pale while the tip of his nose is rosy pink and his eyes are a tint of salmon.

"Y/n." His voice is broken with your name and he can't believe you're standing in front of him. He said your name for the first time in so long it should have been foreign but it wasn't. It was like the subtle scent of home.

"Are you okay?" You hesitate, standing a solid three yards away from him. He is heartbreakingly breathtaking with his jacket loose and his dress shirt untucked and city lights cascading through his features.

"Yeah, just have to head out." He avoids your eyes, afraid of what will come from his mouth if he sees them shine again.

You hang your head wanting to say so much but not being able to even think of where to start. How do you talk to someone you were never anything with after a year? You never got there and now you're just standing in an open parking lot at ten at night questioning everything that's happened.

"Uh," Peter gestures out with one hand as he swallows hard. "You should get back, with, with your boyfriend."

"Not my boyfriend." You say softly.

Peter quirks a brow but his expression doesn't change. "Your date." He corrects himself.

"You know, he's great." You take a deep breath as you clench your jaw.

"Good." Peter says and his voice is drenched with sincerity but leaks disdain.

"Like, really fucking great, you know? He's nice and he respects me and he's there when I need him." You start rambling, feeling your blood start to boil and your body warm despite the chilled air. "He doesn't lie to me. He tells me what I need to know when I need to know it. No secrets, nothing. And we're not even dating. He's really fucking great and I'm out here with you."

"So, go back in there." Peter says, his voice defeated.

"Do you want me to?" You ask.

Peter looks to the right and closes his eyes. Of course he doesn't. He wants you. He's wanted you since the day he saw you. But, he knows what he did to you was not fair and you did not deserve it. He wants to be so fucking selfish and cup your face and feel home just one more time, savor the taste of it, the feeling. But you do not deserve it. You deserve someone who is not selfish.

"Don't lie to me." You sigh, gaining his attention.

"Go." Peter says.

"You don't want me to." You counter.

"What's it matter?" Peter asks.

You scoff and suck your teeth. "Did it hurt?" You nearly yell and Peter looks at you with questioning eyes. "Did it hurt when you left? Did it fucking hurt you when you left me? For months without a fucking word? Because it fucking killed me. I thought you were dead." Tears burn the back of your eyes with your words.

Peter releases a harsh chuckle before taking a step forward, his face contorted with all sorts of pain and anger, but not at you. "Of course it fucking hurt, y/n!" Peter looks away from you and takes a deep breath, calming himself. "It almost killed me, too."

"Then why'd you do it?"

"If your date is so great, why don't go back inside?" Peter changes subject, something he got quite good at whenever you'd fight about something that was about him, something he didn't want to tell you.

"You know what, he is everything you're not." You yell, tossing your hands out. "He is everything I could fucking ask for." Peter heart snapped with your words but he gritted his teeth and swallowed the hard lump, ignoring the barbed wire lacing around his heart. "But, that's the problem. He is everything you are not including you. He is not you. So, I'm standing out in the damn cold without a damn coat on because I fucking miss you and I want answers because I deserve closure at the very least."

"We weren't together." Peter's voice cracks and you can see his breath in the front of him almost as clearly as you can see the heartbreak in the wrinkles of his face.

"But we almost were." It's such a broken statement and you feel it and Peter does, too.

"I'm sorry." Peter says.

"You said that already."

"I know." Peter nods shamefully. "B-but I am. I'm sorry for hurting you and leaving but I had to do it."

Silence falls within the two and a half yard between you. It's the same thing. He said the same words a year ago as did you. It's the exact same thing. Somehow, nothing and everything has changed. The distance between you has grown but the feelings and lies are still there. Maybe the worst part of it all is that two and a half yards. Those two and a half yards that might as well be miles. If you'd close the distance, maybe, just maybe, it would change. You'd feel Peter against you and suddenly the weight from your chest would be lifted. Peter's heart would relax and he'd feel safe again. But, neither of you move. You stand and stare.

Peter's first to break the silence with a sigh. "O-okay." Peter swallows the harsh word and blinks away the burning sensation behind his eyes. "I-I have to go." Peter licks his lips.

"Of course you do. You always have to go. Some things never change, huh?"

Peer's brows furrow as he stares you with disbelief. He knows he deserves whatever you're gonna throw at him but he couldn't believe you were actually laying out on him. You were never mean or rude or anything but simply worried. Now, now you're pissed and hurt and broken and it is his fault and you are going to take it all out on him. But, he doesn't want that. He doesn't want you ruined and bitter over what he did because that is so fucking unfair to you. He is your almost and you are his but he should not be the one that fucks you up. The one that you compare everyone else to in hopes that they are different so they do not break your heart. He can not be the person that makes you fear relationships. But, he is. He is right now and he knows it. So, he has to fix it.

"Fine," Peter says with a tight jaw. "You wanna know?" You nod, not able to say a word as you've never seen Peter with such mixed emotions. "Meet me at Corona Park."

"Park's closed." You say quietly.

"Meet me in the back by the lake. Twenty minutes."

"You're gonna be there?" You question, not really believing him but hoping with everything in you that he's telling the truth.

"Yeah." He nods. "I-I, uh, can't promise that I'll be able to explain everything but, uh, I can some at least but before you go, you can't tell anyone."

"W-why not?"

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Promise..."

"Twenty minutes." Peter mumbles, turning on his heels and heading out of the parking lot, leaving you alone yet again.

You shake your head and go back inside to gather your things. You say your goodbyes to the bride and groom before you head out to your car. You'd have just enough time to get your apartment, change, and make it the park. It was patrolled regularly but no ever bothered to check by the lake.

It was a rather strange request to meet at a park. You never met at a park, ever. But, you needed some type of closure. It was very unhealthy to still be hung up on someone like Peter. You had to keep reminding yourself that he left you. He left you first. Your fingers would hover over his contact and you'd want to call him but that voice in the back of your head convince you otherwise. He deserted you. Peter Parker did not deserve a phone call from you.

The twenty minutes and came went and you're heading to the back of the park that's mostly shielded by trees. Your hands are dug deep into the pockets of your jacket, trying to stay warm as you get closer to the lake. You can see someone leaning against a tree, looking at the city's reflection. You know it's Peter but he has a blue hoodie on and its hood is covering his head. If you were being honest, he looked sketchy.

"Um, Peter?" You ask, approaching him.

"Told you I would be here." He says, not looking to you.

"So, what happened?" You ask, not wanting to waste any time as you stood beside him.

He looks at you and there's one curl covering his forehead while his eyes are sadder than they were earlier. Who knew someone could look so forlorn?

"Remember the war?"

"That nearly destroyed the city? Yeah, who could forget?" You quirked a brow, moving your stare to the water.

"Went to fight." Peter mumbles.

"A lot of people went to fight, Peter." You roll your eyes.

"No, no," Peter shakes his head. "I mean, I like went to fight."

"Yeah?" You respond, growing annoyed with his repetition. "A lot of people were fighting."

Peter groans and pulls your arm so you're facing him. "I mean I went to fight and I almost died. I was," Peter looks to the ground. "I was up against a lot and I almost died so I left."

"So, you almost died and your solution was to run the fuck away?" You can feel your throat wanting to start swearing at him.

"No," Peter's voice is quiet. "I went for three months because I didn't know what to tell you. Because I didn't know how I was going to continue this and be with you."

"Peter, what the hell are you going on about?" You scrunch your face and Peter sighs, bringing his hand up to the zipper of his hood. The sound of his zipper echoes quietly and as the fabric separates, you start to see a metallic red with hints of metallic blue, a spider emblem right on the chest. "You're kidding, right?" Peter just shakes his head. "You're....you're Spider-Man?"

"Yeah." Peter says. "That-that's why I was always bailing and out late and not answering your calls. I-I promise I wasn't just ignoring you. I just have to do this and then I went to fight this guy and he almost killed me and I didn't know how I was supposed to be Spider-Man and how I was supposed to be around anyone. A lot of people died, a lot of people died because of who they know. I-I couldn't bring you into that. Not then."

You blink a few times, trying to process what's going on. All this time, he's been Spider-Man. You never knew. You never suspected him but now it all makes sense. Random bruises, cuts, injuries. Everything. It all makes sense but you still find yourself completely devastated.

"You left to heal for three months and you couldn't call? You," You grit your teeth as you stare at him. "You couldn't tell me? Really? Because what? You were afraid I'd get fucking hurt? Guess what, Peter! I'm fucking heartbroken anyway."

"I-I'm sorry. I am, honest and if I could take it back and just tell you, I would. I really would."

"Well, you can't. You can't just change the past or make everything better by telling me. This, this makes it worse!" Your yell is cracked with rage and sorrow.

"How?" Peter counters.

"BEcause now I'm going to walk away from you and never know if you're okay and that's not fair either! BEcause you made me, you allowed me to walk out on you in the first place! Over this! Over fucking Spider-Man!"

"That's why I didn't tell you!" Peter's voice raises as his hands go in front of him. "I didn't want you to worry!"

"Well, look how great that's going!"

"You know what, y/n? You wanted to know what happened and I told you. I told you. Now, I'm telling you and you're still mad. You're madder than you were in the damn parking lot so what do you want from me?"

"To get the hell over you!"

Peter's eyes narrow as he scoffs. "I-I don't know how to do that." He shrugs one shoulder and his hands rest against his sides.

"I got answers." You surrender every ounce of fight you have. "I'm going home." You run on your heels, hands thrown in pockets and tears brimming.

"Stay." Peter's voice is rush and intertwined with agony. "I'm asking you to stay." 

You turn and face him, his eyes are darkened by the shadow of the tree above him and for a second, you question if you'll really stay this time. He left then you left but now he's here, like he said he would be and you know his secret and he almost died. He almost died and was too afraid to tell you because he can't stand the thought of you being worried about him all the time. He didn't tell you his secret because he wanted you safe. Peter was laying everything on the line to try and give you what you needed most but what you needed most was Peter Parker, Peter Parker from before it all happened.

"If being anything with you," You steady your voice with a deep breath. "Means having to deal with everything Spider-Man," You can see the tears pooling in Peter's eyes, knowing you were not going to give him the answer he was hoping for. You wanted to so fucking bad but how could you? If being anything with Peter meant worrying about him never coming home, how could you live like that? Surely, never getting over him would be better than waking up to a knock on your door or a phone call saying he was never waking up. "I can't stay."


	14. Talking To The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter finds comfort in talking to the stars.

The sky glimmered with distant stars barely visible thanks to the dancing city lights. Peter’s head laid on the grey pavement of a Queens rooftop, his hands interlocked over his abdomen that’s covered with the Spider-Man suit. His mask is laid out on the side of him and his feet are crossed, one of them slightly tapping as he talks to the sky.

“I saved a dog today. That was really cool and it was so happy.” Peter beams at the sky. “Golden Retriever puppy, almost hit by a car but I saved him and then I went to Gino’s and bought him a hot dog. He didn’t have a collar or anything and he was kind of dirty so I think he might be a stray. But, anyway, he really liked the hot dog so I kind of bought him another one. And then I walked him to that shelter, you know, the one right down the street? They’re a no-kill shelter and they were really nice. They were gonna scan him and see if he had a chip and maybe some owners.” Peter sighs as the soft smile falters. “I think I might go back tomorrow and see if they know anything. I don’t...he’s just a puppy so it’s okay if he doesn’t. Someone will adopt him soon but maybe it’d be nice if I came by again. He seemed to like me. I don’t know. Is that stupid?”

He stays quiet for a few minutes, as if he were waiting for the stars to answer him. He checks his phone to see it was reaching after ten at night. A text from May was plastered across his screen.

_“When are you going to be home? Be safe, Peter.”_

“May’s good, by the way.” Peter says softly as he starts replying to May. “She has some bad days still, but she’s good. I don’t think she blames anyone anymore. And she smiles a lot now. She just,” Peter sighs as he rests the cracked phone face down on his stomach. “She worries about me and I get it, ya know? But I really wish she wouldn't. I'm fine and it's all okay. She doesn't like me doing this but...I like being Spider-Man and I have to do it. If I don't do this, bad things are gonna happen and it'll my fault. May says that's not true but it is. It's like...if there's a fire and someone calls 911 but the firefighters decide they're just not gonna go. If someone dies or gets hurt, it's their fault. They had a job to do and they chose not to.” Peter grabs his phone from his stomach as it vibrates. “I told her that and...I think she understands but she still doesn't want me doing this.” Peter finishes as he reads over Mays reply.

_“I'll have your food ready for you.”_

“But, I should head home. It's late and May has food. To anyone who might be listening up there, thanks.” Peter side smiles before sitting up and pulling the mask over his face. He gets up from the ground and walks to the edge of the building, taking in the sights before shooting a web and swinging from building to building to get home.

Talking to the stars is something Peter has grown custom to in the last year. It’s comforting. Something just tells him that maybe, someone is out there listening to him. Maybe it’s some higher power or maybe it’s his Uncle Ben but someone, nonetheless. It makes him feel like the weight of the world isn’t so much.

He can talk to May and he can talk to Ned but Peter doesn’t want them to worry so he talks to the stars. The stars won’t worry about him eating dinner or getting home safe. They won’t worry about him having extra cartridges for his webshooters or that everything in his suit is working properly. They don’t worry about his grades or his future. They’re silent and listen to whatever Peter wants to ramble about, it’s what he needs.

* * *

“This guy punched me today. Totally came out of nowhere and got me right in the eye.” Peter’s laid out on his back again just like he was the night before. He held one hand on his right eye, feeling the bruise that was already growing. “Doesn’t really hurt much though. Maybe May won’t freak out this time. Maybe.” Peter’s voice is a little quiet with the last word. “Yeah, right.” He scoffs.

“It was bad again last night.” Peter admits to the listening stars. “Sometimes...I just-just close my eyes to sleep and it all comes back and it’s like I can’t breathe again and everything hurts and my chest feels completely crushed. It’s like I'm under that damn building again and I can’t stand it.” Peter slams his foot against the pavement in frustration. “I did it. I-I lifted it off of me and I made it and I saved Falcon and the city and no one was really hurt and I did it but…” Peter’s eyes drift, scanning over the distant stars. “I didn’t think I was going to make it, really. Like, I should have died. I should have and if-if I didn’t have...any of this, I would have and it’s not like I can tell May and sure Ned knows but I can’t tell him about this. I can’t tell anyone. They’ll think I can’t handle being Spider-Man. I can, honest. It’s just sometimes, ya know, nightmares happen.”

The thing with talking to the stars is that they cannot judge him. They can’t laugh at him for being scared. For reliving the same nightmare over and over, expecting it to kill him the next time around. They don’t ask him questions about it or how he feels about it. Nothing generic. They just listen. They hear him and are there, twinkling against the Queens street lights, their full attention on Peter. There’s comfort in the silence of the stars.

“Okay,” Peter lets out a deep breath. “Enough about that,” Peter checks the time on his phone and it’s just after nine thirty this time. “There’s a girl.” He sighs and a timid smile tugs at the very corner of his mouth. “She’s so pretty.” Peter says. “Sometimes, I don’t think she knows I exist but I know that’s not very logical. We have psychics together so she has to know I exist. But, she doesn’t talk to me, not that I talk to her either.” Peter admits. “But, let me just tell you, her smile is the brightest thing on this entire earth. I mean it. I don’t think anyone could shine brighter and her eyes are breathtaking. Like, I remember the first time I really saw them and I think...I don’t know.” Peter chuckles to himself as his cheeks tint red. “We were in psychics and she raised her hand to answer a question and her eyes just lit up with the answer, like it was really something she knew and she loved and it was like nothing else.”

A text from May comes through, pulling Peter’s thoughts from the girl. May is just checking on him as she does every other night he’s out. Peter’s fingers brush against the keyboard before hitting send and resting the phone back on his stomach.

“May, checking up again.” Peter states with his eyes back on the stars who, to him, seem to be at the edge of their seats waiting for him to continue. “Right, okay, so she’s perfect. Her voice is kind of like this soft and elegant song, something that would be played at a symphony. Beethoven would be jealous of her voice.” Peter closes his eyes for a second, as if to fall into the moment. “And wow, you should hear her laugh. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Like, ever. I could listen to her laugh all day and never get tired of it.” Peter’s smile widens as the laugh seems to replay through his ears. “It’s so perfect.” Peter’s voice grows delicate and full of endearment. “But I know what you’re thinking,” Peter points to the sky, his finger still covered in the red fabric of his Spider-Man suit. “I should talk to her, right? That’s what you're thinking. I know it but, I don’t know. She makes me so nervous and I suck at talking.” Thunder rumbles through the sky just as Peter finishes his sentence. “Is that some sort of sign? I thought you were supposed to be quiet up there!” Peter’s words are sarcastic, knowing the city was in for a gnarly storm that night and the clouds were rolling in quickly.

“Guess that means goodnight, huh? Before you start raining down on my parade.” Peter grips his mask as he sits up. “If you’re up there, thanks for listening.” He flashes a smile at the sky and puts his mask over his head before following the same routine he did the night before.

* * *

“Man, I’ve got so much to tell you. You are not gonna believe it.” Peter starts rambling as he rips his mask off his face before even laying down on the same roof he’s been laying on for a year. “It’s crazy.” Peter says, sitting on the pavement and making himself comfortable before laying down, the sky a lighter shade of navy than the night before.

“Okay, first, I went to the shelter and the dog has a family. They’re from Albany I guess so they’re coming to get him. But he has a home so that’s good.” Peter smiles with the thought of the little golden puppy. “Anyway, they let me see him today though so I could say goodbye to him and he was so happy. That family is really lucky. I always wanted a puppy, ya know?” Peter admits. “Maybe one day I can get one or maybe I can convince May. You think I could?” Peter questions, waiting a few seconds before continuing on.

“Anyway, next thing, a nice old man bought me a sandwich today because I helped him home. He had some groceries and he wasn’t walking too great thanks to the rain. He was really nice and he had some crazy stories. I wonder if I’ll ever be like that. Just, ya know, having a lot of stories about everything and anything I can tell strangers? Or maybe kids someday?” Peter scrunches his face. “Okay, okay, I’m thinking too far into that.” Peter waves his hand. “It was a good sandwich though.”

“Now, onto my news because wow. Okay, so I talked to her, the girl I mentioned yesterday with the laugh and the eyes and wow. I talked to her. I told her a joke and she laughed, she really freakin’ laughed and I can’t believe it. She laughed at something I said and it was because she found it funny.” Peter beams, joy radiating from him. “Okay, actually maybe she was laughing at me because the joke was lame but she laughed!” Peter’s teeth show with his face-splitting smile. “It was the most beautiful moment ever and I think my heart stopped for a second.” The stars twinkled with the adornment in Peter’s eyes. “Wow, I just, I can’t believe it. Really, I did that.” Peter’s voice is rushed. “I-I think maybe, I’ll try talking to her again tomorrow, ya know? Ned says I should. He said that if I can make her laugh with one of my lame jokes, I should be in the clear. What do you think?”

Peter checks his phone, swiping a quick reply to May as he waits for the sky to send him some sort of sign but it just listens, waits for Peter to continue his adorable rambling.

“May again, checking in. Think I might head home early today. She’ll be happy to hear that nothing too bad happened which, by the way, she totally freaked with my eye last night but it’s alright now. Okay, yeah, I’m gonna head home but I’ll let you know tomorrow if I talk to her or if I don’t. I don’t know.” Peter says, sitting up and flashing the sky one last smile. “And if you’re up there, thanks for listening.”

* * *

Peter’s feet hit pavement in a soft patter as he rips the mask off his face revealing a bloody lip but a toothy smile. His heart is racing and his adrenaline is pumping as he paces, looking at the sky.

“Wow.” Peter says, the stars almost seem to shine brighter than any other night which, oddly enough, seems very suiting for his mood. “Okay, okay,” Peter takes a deep breath. “First things first, I’m okay.” Peter says. “I ran into a pole on my way here but it’s okay.” Peter wipes the blood from his lip with the back of his fabric covered hand. “I just had to start with that, ya know?” Peter takes a deep breath but continues to pace.

“Right, so uh, nothing really happened today. Helped a kid walk home though. He was lost so I helped him for like an hour and his parents tried to pay me but I can’t take their money. That’s not right.” Peter shakes his head with the absurd gesture. “The kid was fun though. He likes my mask and said he wants to be like Mr. Stark. I think he can do it; I told him that and he looked like he was gonna explode.” Peter beams with the thought of the little kid who looked up to him. “He didn’t think he could, which yeah, Mr. Stark is crazy smart but that doesn't mean little kids shouldn’t try to be like him. He’s incredible. But the kid’s parents were relieved to have him home, I guess they’d been looking for him and called the police and everything.”

“Alright, alright, now I’ve got some news.” Peter stops pacing and takes a seat, crossing his legs and resting his hands behind him to support his weight while his neck is tossed back so his eyes are glued to the navy blue sky. “I talked to her again.” Peter’s mouth tugs into a shameless smile. “Really talked to her and she talked back. Obviously,” Peter furrows his brows. “Obviously she talked back otherwise I wouldn’t have talked. Okay, yeah so we talked and I asked her if she was doing anything tomorrow and she isn’t. Well, she wasn’t.” Peter’s cheeks grow sore from his wide smile. “I asked if she wanted to go for a walk and maybe get a coffee or something and she said yes. Can you believe it?” Peter nearly yells with utter excitement. “She actually said she’d come with me. I swear time stopped for a few seconds. She said yes and her cheeks went red and it was beautiful.” Peter’s words fall with complete awe. “She’s so beautiful with everything she does. And now, I get to see her. Tomorrow. I’m so nervous. But, she said yes.” Peter repeats himself, too focused on the simple response he got earlier that day.

He never imagined that he’d receive an agreement but he did. He took a leap and it certainly paid off. It was risky and his hands were shaking and sweating, terrified of what you’d say but the second your cheeks flushed the simple ‘sure, yeah, okay.’ left your mouth and Peter’s heart leaped from his chest with so much excitement he feared his heart would actually beat out of his chest.

“I hope I don’t mess it up.” Peter’s voice is soft as he starts to lay on the pavement. “She’s different, a good different.” Peter chews on the inside of his cheek. “But, anyway, I’m sure you’re bored of me talking about her. Ned is. He might be even just as happy as I am that I asked her finally.”

“So, anyway,” Peter takes in a reluctant sigh. “Had another nightmare last night.” His brows furrow and the joy he had just minutes earlier seemed to evaporate. “So, I didn’t really sleep. It wasn’t the one where the building falls though. It’s the one with the ferry.” Peter’s eyes nearly mist over with the memory. “It was bad, really bad. A lot of people died and they were all screaming and crying and begging me to help them but I couldn’t put the ferry back together and instead, I was stuck with my webs and my arms felt like they were being ripped from their sockets. It felt real and maybe that’s because it kind of was...kind of but it was...horrible. I hate that dream.” Peter stomps his foot against the pavement. “But, it’s been awhile since I've had that one so I think it’s getting a little better, ya know?”

Peter’s phone vibrates and May wants him home for dinner given it’s Friday and he always eats dinner at home and then goes back out for a second patrol.

“May wants me home. But, besides that damn nightmare, today was amazing and I’m just gonna focus on tomorrow. I have to figure out what I’m gonna wear or what I'm gonna say and do and there’s so much to figure out.” Peter sits back up and runs his thumbs over the fabric of his mask. “Alright,” Peter sighs. “I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow. Wish me luck, I think we know I need it. And if you’re out there listening, thank you.”


	15. Never Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter comes home to find his apartment, where you should be, broken into.

Peter’s night was a mess. He stopped four burglars and nearly got stabbed twice. He was more than happy to finally be making his way home. You were to be there waiting for him as you were every Friday night once you got off work. So, when Peter found his apartment door wide open and his belongings scattered and tossed everywhere as if someone had broke in, his heart hit the fucking surface.

Peter’s jaw clenched as the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end with every careful step he took through his apartment. Mail was all over the floor, the table in the kitchen was turned over as well as the couch in the living room. Broken class decorated the floor in the hallway thanks to the broken lamp and drops of blood stained the glass red.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, hoping you weren’t there.

That you got held up for a late shift and your phone died. Maybe you were still getting food for the both of you as you did every Friday. You were always getting food or Peter was coming home to a homecooked meal thanks to you. Maybe you got off early and went home and fell asleep. Something. Anything that wouldn’t put you in his apartment.

He crept into his room where picture frames were broken on the floor, the glass shards containing more blood. Panic was coursing through his veins the more blood he saw. There was, without a doubt, a struggle and no one would have been there beside you or even May. Everything stopped for a second when he saw your backpack on the opposite side of the room, textbooks and your college ID tossed from it.

“Y/n?” Peter says louder, keeping his voice as level as he could manage.

That's when he heard shifting from the closet. He moved towards it, preparing himself to put up a fight but when he ripped the door open, he found you. Your mouth was duct taped shut, blood cascading down your face due to a large laceration by your hairline. One of your eyes was already black and blue all while your hands were tied behind your back and your feet tied together.

“Shit.” Peter says as he kneels down in front pf you. “They still here?” He asks as he works on the duct tape and you shake your head in response as tears start to brim in your eyes. “Okay, I’m gonna get this off of you and get you cleaned up, okay?”

How could this happen? His place was always locked. No matter what. You always locked the door and he’s  _Spider-Man_. This is the very thing he’s supposed to be preventing but now you’re bleeding and bruised in his closet and you could have been killed. How could this happen?  _How the hell did he let this happen?_  He was torn between crying for you and the guilt or taking you to May’s and hunting down the people or person that did this to you, not stopping until he caught them.

“Wha-ho-wh....” Peter stammered, trying to gain the right questions. “Are....are you okay?” His voice is so soft you almost didn’t hear him.

Silence fell between you as you just stared at him with tears mixing with the still running blood from the wound on your head. You were horrified. You were sure that guy was going to kill you and he could have. He had a gun. He was twice your size and he could have.  _You could have died._

“Peter.” His name fell from your mouth as you let out a sob and your chest constricted.

“I’m here.”Peter says as he moves closer and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the lingering soreness from his night. “I-I’m sorry.” Peter says, his hand holding your head against his chest. “Uh, o-okay,” Peter swallows the hard lump in his throat as he pulls away and places his hands on your cheeks that were now partially raw from the adhesive. “Uh, I-how many?”

“One.” You croak.

“Okay,” Peter nods with a breath, fighting back his own tears. “H-uh, he didn’t...”

“No, no, no, no!” You shake your head with another sob. “Just roughed me up and tied me up and put me in here.”

Peter’s veins pumped with relief. You were injured but the worst didn’t happen. “Good,” Peter nods. “Let’s, uh, we’ll get you into the bath, okay? Gonna clean you up.”

You nod and Peter moves his hands to yours, helping you out of the closet. Once on your feet, Peter wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder and allowed you to lean into him. You walked with a slight limp thanks to the pain in your ribs from the struggle but you turned Peter down when he offered to carry you the few feet to the bathroom, certain it would only hurt more.

Once in the bathroom, Peter has you sit on the toilet seat as he runs the bath water and grabs a wash rag before wetting it and moving between your legs. The damp rag pressed against your head and you winced with the pain.

“What happened?” Peter asks, his voice calm despite his heart aching for you and his blood boiling, his skin itching to find the person that did this to you.

“I-I-I-” You stammer. “I don’t know. I, I was gonna make dinner and then there was a noise at the door and I thought maybe you lost your key but the noise kept going.” You retell the events with Peter’s undivided attention. “I was going to my bag when I heard the door slam open. I was trying to get my pepper spray. And...” You look at the caramel haired boy, noticing his black eye and you find yourself questioning how he does this every night. “I...I froze.” You shrug, shame filling your voice.

Peter tilted his head and stopped the dabbing. “Tha-that’s okay, you know? That’s normal. See it all the time.” Peter reassures before turning the water off to the bath. “What happened after that?”

“I mean, I didn’t freeze long, I tried to go out there, ya know? Like...you do it all the time so I went out and I had the pepper spray ready in one hand and my phone in the other but...Peter,” Your eyes widened as Peter knelt between your legs. “He was big, like way bigger than me and I should have just called you or the cops instead of trying to handle it myself so when he saw me, he came after me and we struggled with the pepper spray before he finally pulled out his gun and said he was gonna shoot if I screamed or tried anything.”

“Y/n...” Peter says as his eyes gloss over. His heart was shattering with every word that left your mouth.  _He should have been there._

“He took my phone and hit me with the butt of the gun and I woke up in the closet. I don’t know how long or anything. Peter, I should have-”

“No.” Peter cuts you off sharply. “You did fine. You did nothing wrong. You tried to protect yourself.”

“B-but I should have called you and now everything is a mess and we were supposed to have dinner.” You start rambling, looking away from him.

“I don’t care!” Peter shakes his head. “You really think I’m concerned about how the apartment looks? That you didn’t call? What if you did call? He could have heard you calling me or the cops and he could have killed you. Don’t apologize.” Peter kisses your forehead softly. “Let’s get you into the tub, okay? And then I’m gonna call May and-”

“No, no, no,” You shake your head as more tears brim and Peter’s brows furrow. “I know you’re gonna go out there but not tonight, please, Peter. I...I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Yeah,” Peter says quietly with the simple nod of his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” The word is completely shattered with your broken voice.

“Promise. I promise I’m not going anywhere and I promise, this is never gonna happen again. Never.”


	16. Not You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're the one afraid of losing Peter

It was just after nine in the evening and you had just finished eating dinner from the takeout place down the street when your phone vibrated with a text from Peter. All he said was to come to your bedroom window. Since you found out he was Spider-Man after catching him in an alley tossing his backpack, he likes to come in through your window and you can't help but find it rather endearing.

You head to your room and find Peter in his suit leaning against your window while sitting on your fire escape. Your fingers tap the glass to gain his attention but when he turns to you, he has a black eye and a bloody lip. Your eyes widen as you open the window and allow him inside.

"What happened?" You look him over, noticing the suit fully intact.

"Bad guys." He says in a soft voice with the soft shrug of his shoulder.

"I gathered. Sit." You point to your bed and he just shakes his head.

"I'm fine, really." He sends you a smile but you find the blood around the corner of his mouth unconvincing.

"Right." You nod with furrowed brows. "Sit anyway."

Peter sighs. "I'm fine." His eyes roll and he walks to your dresser, opening the top drawer where you kept extra clothes for him. "I-uh, I wanted to talk to you."

"Hm?" You cross your arms, holding an annoyed expression.

"Yeah," Peter turns to face you, black sweatpants and a Star Wars shirt in hand. "Uh, yeah, just can we sit...outside?" Peter bites his fat lip and you just sigh, figuring you knew what he was gonna say.

"Yeah, I'll grab you some ice for that eye and lip. You get changed and clean up a bit; meet you out there." You look at him, tired eyes boring into his nervous expression.

You moved past him and head to your kitchen, grabbing some water for the two of you as well an ice pack you always kept on hand thanks to Peter and a towel to wrap it in. You made sure to move as slowly as possible, trying to work out a speech about how you were tired with his games, the back and forth. Every time he asked if you two could talk outside, he broke up with you and it was always because there was something bigger out there and he feared you'd be dragged into it. Tonight would make it the sixth time he'd put you through it. It was exhausting, even if you did adore him with your entire heart. It's exhausting hearing the same words, over and over again while your heart gets ripped out of your chest and dropped the five stories from your fire escape.

"Here." You say as you climb out your window, handing Peter the ice pack and one of the bottles of water.

"Thanks." He says, carefully placing the ice pack on his eye.

"Go on, just tell me already. We'll go our separate ways again and I'll see you in a few months." You sit beside him, taking a drink of your water.

Peter's eye widens and his brows furrow, taken back by your blunt statement. "What?"

"Come on, Pete. You only wanna talk out here if you're breaking up with me. So, go on. Tell me you're afraid to lose me, that someone might kill me blah, blah, blah. I'll go back inside, cry, again, and I'll see you in a few months."

"I love  _you._ " Peter says.

"Yeah." You roll your eyes. "I love you, too."

"I just, ya know? It's risky to-"

"Okay," You cut him off, closing your eyes for a few seconds before looking to him. "Actually, I don't wanna hear it. Because you know what's harder than you dating me? Me dating you."

"What?" Peter shakes his head with confusion.

"You come by at least four days a week injured and I'm supposed to be okay with that. I wanted to date Peter Parker. The fucking nerd that was always at that cafe after his morning class, trying his hardest to get shit done while sipping on his caramel latte. The one that tells science puns as a way to pick someone up. The sweet one that...I fell for Peter Parker and I accept that you and your alter ego are one of the same. But, the reality, is that dating Peter Parker and dating Spider-Man are different. With Peter Parker, I knew you were coming home and you were gonna call me when you did. But, now, I'm dating Spider-Man and I know that one day, you're not gonna come home." Your voice quivers with the last sentence as Peter's mouth falls open a little, his uncovered eye scanning you over. "You're not gonna come home one day and I have to be okay with that."

Silence falls as you look away from him. You wanted to cry with your words. You thought about it a million times. Every time he came to you with even just a little red mark, you knew that one night, May would call and it would be bad. That's the reality of dating some superhero. Your heart begged you not to cry when those thoughts crept into your mind but you always did because even the thought of losing him, the fucking thought could kill you. Let alone if you actually did lose him. He means everything to you.

"W-why do you do it then?" Peter asks, his uncovered eye is still on you but his voice is barely even audible.

He's unsure if you're breaking up with him or if you're saying this is the last time. He doesn't understand why you keep allowing him back into your life if it's so hard. He knows he puts you through hell and back with the breakups but he panics because he can't lose you, not like that.

"Because," You shrug, taking in a deep breath as you fight back tears. "Losing you isn't something I can handle." Your eyes gloss over as you make eye contact with him again. "I can't lose you so I always stay and come back because if I'm here, at least I can have you now and maybe if I stay, for some reason, you'll be careful. You'll be more careful than if I weren't so maybe I won't lose you."

Peter's heart could have shattered with the very look your eyes held. He was hurting you in every way possible but never even realized until just then. You were just as terrified of losing him as he was losing you. The only difference, you risked your heartbreak to be with him. Peter didn't. He did it to protect you, yeah, but he did it to protect himself as well. You don't do that. You suck it up and accept it. And in that moment, you changed Peter's mind. He'd been going the wrong way with this, being afraid of losing you so running away instead of just facing it head on, hand in hand with you. He might be Spider-Man but you were his saving grace.

He put the ice pack down and placed his hands on your cheeks, colliding his lips with your yours. You melted into him as your brought your hands up to his, taking hold of them but not daring to pull away as tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes.

"No," Peter whispered against your lips when he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. "I'm not running this time. If...if you can do this than I can because I am so fucking in love with you and I  _cannot_  lose you."

The very corner of your mouth twitched with his words. "Never again, yeah?"

"Never." He smiled sweetly before kissing you once more.


	17. Running From Sirens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has a habit of ending things when they get tough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Snow White by Twenty One Two

You've heard of Peter Parker. You go to the same school but you have different classes and you've had different classes all four years, unless you count lunch. In which case, you've had lunch with him every year. But, you simply know of him and have heard rumors. That's it though. You couldn't begin to guess his favorite color or what he even does after school. You just knew that he was Peter Parker, smartest kid in school, terrible at relationships.

You watched as Cindy's eyes glossed over and her lip quivered, Peter's head hung and his hands were in his pockets. Another breakup. He always chose to do it at lunch. This was the fifth girl in the past three years. Not that you'd actually been actively keeping track but, again, rumors have their ways of finding themselves to your ears. You shook your head and went back to talking with your friends.

When the school day came to an end, you made your way to the coffee shop a few blocks away to finish a report that was due at the end of the week. You opened your laptop, popped in your earbuds, and got to work. You worked for a few hours before you realized it was going to be dinner soon and you'd be set to get home. So, you packed up your things and headed out of the shop, smiling at the barista before doing so.

On your way out, you pumped into someone as they were running and you were nearly sent right to the ground but their reflexes were as fast as lightning, catching you by the wrist before you fell.

"I-I'm so sorry. Are you okay? I was in a hurry an-and I should have been-I'm sorry." Peter rambles as he helps your stand upright.

"Oh, yeah. All good." You nod and eye him with suspicion. "What're you running from this time?"

"Uh, w-what?" He furrows his brows and shakes his head quickly.

"You're always running from something." You sigh, shifting your weight to your right foot. He stares at you with confusion, waiting for you expand. "I'm just saying,  **you have a knack for running from sirens.** "

"I, uh," Peter rubs the back of his neck. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cindy, MJ, Ashley, Piper, Vee." You list off the girls Peter has broken up with.

You weren't personally friends with any of the girls besides Vee but from what you've heard, Peter breaks up with every girl the second they hit one bump. He just ends it, doesn't bother to fix it. He runs away. It's like he's afraid of something and while Vee was the first girl he'd done it to, unless you count Liz who he didn't actually date but did ditch, you don't like that he just doesn't bother to try. It's disrespectful. If he can't handle a conversation to talk things out, he shouldn't date anyone.

"Uh, oh..." Peter says and his face turns a vibrant shade of red. "That, uh, it-it's complicated."

"Yeah, sure. Just saying, you should probably figure your shit out before dating another girl. I'm tired of watching you break up with them."

"Y-you watch?" Peter quirks a brow, wondering how he didn't notice anyone directly watching.

"I mean," You chuckle. "I don't go out of my way and watch. You do it a few tables in front of mine. Every time. So, it's kind of hard not to notice."

"Oh..." Peter looks to the sidewalk as if you'd just told him something less than obvious. "I hadn't thought of that." His face contorts in touches of regret.

"Well, now you know and this has been quite fun, but I've gotta go before I'm late for dinner." You go to move past him but Peter is suddenly walking side-by-side. "Yes?"

"I can walk you." Peter offers.

"You were going in the opposite direction and you were in a big hurry...?" You narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out his game.

"Uh, yeah," He shrugs. "But, you shouldn't walk home alone and it's no big deal." He gives you a soft, closed mouth smile.

"Sure, whatever." You nod and keep your eyes in front of you.

"Really," Peter starts after a few minutes of silence. "I-it's complicated. I don't try to hurt anyone." Peter's voice is delicate and you find yourself looking at him, his eyes holding so much guilt you can feel it radiating from him.

"Why do you do it then?" You question.

He shrugs. "I like them." Peter says. "Really, I do, but some, uh, some stuff comes up and, well, it's better to end it. I-I don't know. I think it'll be better with someone else and then the same thing happens."

"Do you want some advice?" You look at him with raised brows.

"Please." He says with eager eyes.

"Sort out your shit, Parker." He lets out an exasperated sigh at your words as he shakes his head. "No, no." You shake your head quickly. "Really, like, that's the advice. Sort out whatever is going on and then work on relationships. You've been with five girls and you just said it's always the same problem. Five different girls, five different friend circles. That's not them, that's you. So, figure you out and then work on getting in a relationship."

"I-I just feel bad." Peter admits as your building comes into view. "Ya know? They like me and-and I like them so-"

"I get it." You roll your eyes. "You both like each other so you don't want to turn them down in fear of hurting them or saying that you have something going on and you can't handle it."

"Yeah." Peter says, his eyes wide, surprised you were able to know what he was gonna say.

"Okay, well, if it were me, I'd get it." You nod, reaching the front steps of your apartment. "I mean, if a dude has the balls to say they have some personal shit and they wanna either just have something casual or just be friends, I'm gonna respect them way more and so will a lot of other girls. Those who don't, aren't worth your time. You're a nice guy, Peter. You just need to focus on you and stop worrying about hurting other people's feelings."

Peter gives you the softest side smile. "Thanks, you, uh, you give good advice."

"I know." You smile wide. "So you should take it because now I'm involved and if I see you or hear of you breaking up with another girl, I'm gonna come for you."

"Okay, okay." Peter chuckles. "Won't happen again."

"Good. Now, go, run wherever you were running." You joke and turns towards the door. "And hey, thanks for walking me." Peter blushes with your words before you head inside and he heads down the street.


	18. For When You're Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You send Peter a playlist you made him for when he's down

It was finally summer. The long New York winter has been over and the spring came and went. The school year ended as it did every other year before. Everyone beamed with happiness, ignoring the heat from the sun that touched their exposed skin after exiting the school for the last time until late August. Everyone always looked forward to summer, to not to be trapped in a building with lights too bright to think straight and walls so white you swear you'd never know any other hue. But, this year, it's different.

Peter and you weren't too ecstatic about summer. You were both happy to have the next few months off with minimal responsibility but, you were going away for the first month and a half. Your family was going over the seas; they wanted you to travel for the summer. It'd be fun but you'd miss Peter and he'd miss you.

So, it's the third week of summer and you've only been gone a week and a half. Thanks to time zones, it's three in the morning for Peter and nine in the morning for you. He's awake and sore from his Spider-Man patrol and the only thing he wants to do is wrap his arms around you but you're well over three thousand miles away. So, he does the only thing he can and picks up his phone to see if you're awake yet.

 **Peter:**    
 _You awake?_

You were laying in your hotel bed just waking up when the text came through. A soft smile found itself on your face with the thought the cheeky, brown-haired boy. You clicked his message but instead of texting him, you hit the call option.

"What are you awake for at three in the morning, Peter?" You ask, sarcasm in your voice.

Peter chuckles on the other end. "Ya know...missing you." Peter says, his voice quiet mostly due to May asleep in the next room.

"I miss you, too." You respond, your voice dropping with your heart. "How're things?"

"Good." Peter says plainly.

"So, you're awake at 3am because everything is good? What's going on?" You know him and even if he's missing you, he'd be able to sleep or at least try and wait until eleven your time to make sure you got enough sleep. Something was bugging him for him to text you this early.

"I don't know." Peter shrugs on the other end and you can sense his sadness. "I...just been...I don't know. It's a lot lately, I guess." Peter admits.

You nod your head even though he can't see you. "I wish I could be there for you." You bite your lip with a heavy heart.

"No, no." Peter says. "I'll be fine. Don't let me bring you down." His words are sincere but you can't help but wish you could make him feel better. But, then again, you were always one step ahead of him.

"Remember a few months ago when you were against that weird villain thing? And you were kind of mopey and just wanted to sit around with me?" You ask, putting him on speaker as you scroll through your phone.

"Yeah...what, uh, what about it?"

"Made you a playlist for when that happens again. We just sat inside and watched Netflix and listened to music and it always made you feel better. So, I made you a playlist since I can't be there. I'm gonna text it to you and then you're gonna listen to it and try and get some sleep, okay?" You copy the link and send it his way before taking him off speaker.

"You didn't have to." Peter says.

"Yeah, but I wanted to. So, go. Listen to it and then text me when you wake up, alright?"

"Thank you, y/n." Peter responds with the softest voice.

"Goodnight, Peter." You smile to yourself before hanging up, leaving Peter to the playlist in his dimmed room.

Peter clicked the link you sent him while he grabbed his earbuds and put them in his ears. He lays his head back on the pillow and clicks the shuffle option. Wonderwall by Oasis comes through his ears. A smile crept onto his face with the very first line. You played that song every single time you got in the car. Peter would want to rip his hair out of his head if he didn't love the way your eyes lit up every single time it played. He still sings along with you, no matter how bored of it he is. And even so, he lets the song play. It's kind of like having you there.

Superman cover by Boyce Avenue came on next and Peter knows exactly why you decided to add it. He's Spider-Man and you know that but you know that he's Peter Parker first. He's the kid that was dumpster diving for computer parts. He's the kid who couldn't even walk the halls without nearly running into a locker or tripping over his own two feet. Superman was a reminder, he's Peter first and you loved Peter before you ever knew he was Spider-Man. Your hero isn't Spider-Man, it's Peter and sometimes, Peter's world gets a little too loud and it's all a little too heavy and he just needs a break. He's still him. Superman is the song you always made him listen to when he needed a reminder that it's okay to be human sometimes.

Fast Car by Tracy Chapman followed and Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes with the biggest smile on his face. This wasn't a song just for him but for you, too. When the two of you were together, you both felt like you were invincible. Life was going to be amazing even if something blew up your face the next day. It didn't matter because you had each other. Peter was there for you and you were there for him. When you're together, you both feel like you belong somewhere, like you're not two strangers walking around the city trying to figure things out. You belonged, you belonged with each other. Fast Car became an immediate favorite for the two of you, especially when you'd be driving or walking home, the city lights being the only thing illuminating your walk. It was special.

The songs continued to play through, everything between the song you first danced to at winter formal to the song that happened to be playing when Peter had asked to kiss you for the first time, all of them making him feel a little more settled and sleep slowly creeping up on him. Every song lifted he weight from his shoulders and made him remember you'd be back before he knows it, that you'd be right back in his arms. Contentment filled his veins as his heart fell into a steady rhythm but before he would allow himself to sleep like you told him to, he had to send you once last text.

 **Peter:**    
 _I love you so much_


	19. Fun Fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter kills the mood with what he thinks is a fun fact

Peter's skin is soft beneath your fingers, a little tattered but soft and smooth, warm. One of his hands gripped your hip, holding you as close to him as possible without him falling off of the couch while his other hand cupped your cheek. One of his legs was pushed between yours, helping him hover over top of you while his lips moved in sync with yours. He tasted of minty cinnamon thanks to his toothpaste. His lips are chapped as they usually were but you never minded. Chapped lips or not, makeout sessions with Peter were nothing but perfect. Well, usually.

As you went to move your hands from under his shirt to his hair, Peter detached his lips from yours abruptly and stared into your eyes.

"Wait. I remembered something." His eyes grew wide and you suddenly became very aware of how sore your cheeks were. "So, fun fact. I read today that people can die from a broken heart and it's actually called broken heart syndrome." Peter starts rambling and you just furrow your brows, your hands barely grasping the fabric of his shirt that hung at his sides. "It's these tiny vessels that help hold the heart together and you know when something really hurts, emotionally, you can't breathe and your chest physically hurts? Yeah, that's why. It rarely ever happens. It usually happens with couples who have been together for a really long time or a parent who loses their child. But, anyway, these tiny vessels, or strings if you will, help with blood flow and the second they snap, the heart isn't able to pump right and the person dies. It's the literal emotional strain and your body doesn't know how to understand it, it just knows it needs to get the pain out. So, you're heart actually hurts."

You stare at the disheveled hair boy above you and shake your head slightly. "Do you ever not kill the mood?" You question with a soft laugh.

"Sorry, I, uh, I just found it interesting and-"

"It's okay." You push up to kiss his cheek before laying back. "But, why did you even read that?  _Where_  did you read that?"

"Oh," Peter shrugs. "I wanted to know if it were actually possible to die from a broken heart." His words are nonchalant and you just continue staring at him with complete confusion.

"Okay...but....why?"

"You'll say I worry too much." Peter's thumb rubs against your cheek with his words, the enthusiasm he held seconds ago, completely gone.

"You do worry too much." You scoff. "But I expect nothing less. I'd be worried if you didn't worry. So, what's got that brain of yours so worried about dying?"

Peter licks his bottom lip before bending his elbow to lay on his side, you moving to face him while his arm goes around your neck. "I'm not gonna come home one day, so...ya know...got curious."

You sigh and cup his cheek with one hand. "First of all, you shouldn't think so negatively, it's not healthy and second, I'll always be okay. If you die, I have no doubt you will find a way to either come back completely or sneak up on me in ghost form to yell, 'hey! Fun fact!' and follow it with something about the afterlife." Your mouth tugs into a sarcastic grin.

Peter puts his head against your shoulder, shaking it as he chuckles. "Always the optimist." Peter says after pulling away.

"I try." You peck his nose. "But really, please don't think about dying. It's actually making me sad." You chew on the inside of your cheek with your words. You knew he was right; you knew he wouldn't come home one day but you always pushed it out of your head.

"No," Peter whines, peppering your face in kisses as you giggle. "I'm sorry, never again." Peter shakes his head and wraps his arm tightly around you to bring you into his chest.

"Good." You mumble into him. "Anyway, we were in the middle of something." You lift your head up to look at him and a crooked smile is plastered across his face.

"Right." Peter says before loosening his grasp on you and colliding his lips with yours.


	20. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're caught dancing in your kitchen when Peter comes home from a mission

It's been about two weeks since Peter has been home but last night you finally got the call. He was coming home and this time, with nothing more than some minor scrapes and bruises. At least that's what he told you when he called the night before. You knew he was perfectly fine though, the chipper in his voice made that perfectly clear. Regardless, you were just happy that he was coming home, back to being as safe as he could be. Safer than the missions at least. However, he did have to give you the news that he wouldn't actually be home until late the following night. That said, you weren't even that upest. He was coming home and that's what mattered.

You were up extra early the following morning, solely because yen were too excited to sleep longer. Peter was coming home. You spent the day doing laundry making sure the sheets were clean as well as his favorite pajama pants and hoodie. You made one of his favorite meals that always seemed to taste better reheated rather than right out of the oven. You made sure the apartment was clean which was quite easy since you tidied up every day to keep your mind from worrying about Peter. By the time it reached after eleven, you had finally showered and were now in the kitchen listening and dancing to music while you heated up a snack to try and keep yourself awake until Peter returned.

Your back was to the entrance of the kitchen and you were too caught up with your dancing to notice Peter had snuck in quietly. He stood watching you with a smile tugging at his lips and his bag tossed over his shoulder. You were in nothing besides one of his science pun shirts and your underwear, your usual nighttime attire. Peter missed you like hell but he really missed the sight of you in his clothes. It was truly a sight to behold.

The smile turns into a very soft smirk. "You shaved for me?" The question is drenched with sarcasm but you don't care at all.

You stop dead in your tracks, turning around so fast it's a wonder you didn't give yourself whiplash. Your heart stopped as your eyes widen with the sight of Peter putting his bag on the floor. His hair is a usual mess and there's only the slightest purple tint decorating his right eye. He was like the damn sun coming up for the first time after a harsh winter. Bright and happy as ever.

"Peter!" You exclaim as you run up to him and right into his arms.

One of his hands fells on the back of your head while the other is planted on your hip like a puzzle piece falling back in place. "Miss me?" He asks.

"Nope." You chuckle looking up to him with the happiest tears brimming in your eyes.

"Well, I missed you like crazy." He mumbles, bringing both hands to cup your cheeks before giving you a much-needed kiss.

You pulled away but only her a second. "Welcome home, Peter."


	21. She Will Be Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter comes to comfort you after yet another breakup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5

Heartbreak. It hurts like a bitch. To get your heart broken, you have to give our heart to other people and trust them not to break it. But, that always ends up breaking you. Having your heart dipped in liquid nitrogen and then beat with a hammer would hurt less than having someone you love break your heart. It's torturous, something you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy and you are still someone who sets yourself up for it, every single time.

You knew that if you continued to date people, that they would likely break your heart and move on as if they've done nothing. They can apologize and really mean it but that doesn't make the ache in your chest hurt any less. It all still sucks. But, you're a sucker for a good love story and you're a sucker for everything romantic. You just want someone to love you and to love someone the same way. It just hasn't worked for you yet.

Tears swell in your eyes before cascading down your cheeks as you hit the familiar contact, a very happy and cheery picture of the brown haired boy you'd known forever flashed across your screen while you held the phone to your ear.

Three rings.

"Hello?" Peter says.

"Hey..." Your voice cracks with the word and Peter hears you sniffle.

"What's wrong?" He stops what he was doing to hear your response.

"Can you come over?"

"Be there in fifteen." Peter says quietly before hanging up.

He's your best friend. He knew you better than anyone in the entire world and you knew him better than anyone. You were his best friend. So, it absolutely devastated Peter every single time you called him about whoever left you broken and unwanted. He preached the same speech every time. You were perfect the way you and you shouldn't allow some douchebag to make you feel differently.

It helped, of course it did, it always did because it was coming from Peter's mouth. It didn't matter what he'd say because just sitting with him on your rooftop made you feel better. His voice was just a bonus. Nonetheless, it really didn't help him. Sure, he liked that he could make you feel better and your tears would dry up within the first ten minutes of him being there, and you'd be right back to laughing. But, you were still hurt. He could feel the pain you felt and he hated t. He hated that he couldn't make you see what he saw. Regardless, though, he'd never stray. He'd come every single time without fail.

Peter showed up on your roof like he did every other time. You were already there waiting for him, tear-stained cheeks and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders to protect you from the New York breeze.

"Hey." Peter says as he sits next to you, pulling out your favorite candy from his pocket. "Stopped at the gas station on the way."

"Thanks, Peter." You give him a sad smile and take the candy, putting it in your own hoodie pocket.

"What, uh, what happened?" Peter asks, already knowing the answer.

"Broke up." You mumble as your bottom lip started to quiver.

"I'm sorry." Peter says with knitted brows.

"It's always me." You whine. "It's never them. I always put in my all for everything and then they turn around and then they leave and it's always my fault and I don't get it." Tears start falling as your voice grows louder with the sobs. "I just don't understand why I'm never good enough."

Peter stares at you silently for a few seconds, processing your words. He knew that sometimes you didn't have the highest self-esteem, it was written in the way you held yourself. The way your eyes lit up whenever someone would show interest in you. He knew but he was hoping that maybe, maybe that feeling, that sense he picked up from you would be wrong. It's never wrong, but hell, maybe it could have been.

But it wasn't.

You're now admitting to your best friend that you don't think you're good enough and he wants to shake you and scream that you're plenty good enough. You are good enough for everyone and it is other people's loss that they do not see how brilliantly amazing you are. He wants to make you feel loved and important, more important than you ever have before because he only wants you happy.

"You're plenty good enough, y/n." Peter says, his eyes not dancing with nerves or ease like they usually do when they're planted on you. They're serious. "You're always good enough." He shrugs, just once. "I-it's them. Y-you're the best person in the world and anyone who tells you differently is wrong."

You shake your head and look out over the sky. "You're my best friend, you're supposed to say that." You wipe some tears with the back of your hand.

"No," Peter says calmly. "I mean it. I wouldn't lie to you." You look back to Peter and he bites the inside of his cheek as his bones want to tell you exactly how he's felt about you all these years. "I-if I thought that you were wrong, I'd tell you but you're not." Peter looks away, taking a deep breath. "You're too good for the people you date."

You look at Peter and he is far too good for the world. His honest words are always like honey, sweet and sticky. Thye follow you, stick with you whenever you get yourself down. No matter how honest he gets, it's always said with kindness, sugar coated to protect your feelings while still getting the point across. He always says he's not good with words, but on your rooftop, that doesn't seem to apply. He knows what to say and his words flow with simplicity. He's your best friend and you have no idea what you would do without him.

"I just...just want to be loved, ya know? Have that happily ever after and it just doesn't seem to be working out for me. I just want to be loved."

The very tip of Peter's mouth twitches into what could barely even be considered a soft smile as he shakes his head, his heart falling into the pit of his stomach knowing it was not the right time to explain how his feelings affect every word that falls from his chapped lips.

"You are." He says softly.


	22. Better Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months have passed since the war, but there's still quite a bit of recovery that needs to happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Voldemort by With Confidence

It's been months, months since the war. It was horrible and completely terrifying. You were on your way to school with Happy when you saw it, the odd alien spaceship in the sky. Happy was quick to turn around, your dad already calling him to tell him to take you to one of the safety bunkers he had planned. The threat of Thanos had been long coming and it was finally there. The plan was for you to go with Happy and Pepper to seek safety and not move until it was over. There were a few problems with that plan of course.

You're a Stark. You have your dad's stubbornness, determination, and intelligence. How were you supposed to just wait it out while your last known relative, your fucking father, was out there risking his life for everyone? He didn't give you a choice in the matter, though. Of course, he didn't because God help him if he made it out alive and you didn't.

With that though, he was supposed to meet you in the safety bunker before going off. That was the plan. He would take a detour to you because he knew, just like he knew with the wormhole, he'd not make it out. He got lucky once and the odds of him getting lucky twice were essentially nonexistent. His nine lives had to be up. But, he didn't come right away. You questioned Happy, demanded Pepper tell you where he was. You screamed that you'd go out there your damn self and find him if neither of them were willing to tell you. But, it wasn't about him. That's not what they were keeping quiet about it. It was Peter.

You originally met Peter in your freshman Algebra class. It was truly a fluke because Midtown was your high school of choice. Tony wanted you off at another prestigious school but you liked Midtown and he did have a little bit of hard saying no to you. But neither of you knew only a year later, he'd be recruiting the young teenage boy and it'd end up bringing the two of you close.

By the spring of your sophomore year, you'd made the first move and you two started dating. Peter being an even bigger nervous wreck when he'd be around Tony, though. Tony all too happy to give him 'protective dad' glares. But, he was actually happy you were with Peter rather than some other boy. At least he knew Peter, that's how he saw it. And he knew Peter looked up to him way too much to even think of hurting you. So, truthfully, it was smooth sailing for the most part.

But, Peter, much like your dad, couldn't help himself. He saw that damn spaceship and thought it was a good idea to get on it and try and stop it his damn self. Tony was alerted by Karen and was suited up in seconds thanks to his new suit that bleeds over his skin from the reactor. Tony was going off to save your dumbass of a boyfriend while you waited, completely in the dark of what was going on above you. Talk about uneasy.

They did return, however. Peter looking at you with guilty eyes and Tony apologetically. They only had time to say a quick goodbye before they had to leave for space. Space. They were going to space. You were staying on Earth, having to wait. And wait. And wait. Hoping that a miracle would happen and they'd both make it back alive.

Sometimes, hoping for miracles just leads to a letdown. A huge let down that crushes you, crushes your bones and shatters your heart. You get your hopes up, begging for the impossible. It's almost self-induced torture.

But, sometimes, miracle happen and that's what slapped you across the face. They looked horrible. Suits torn and damaged. Black eyes, cuts, broken bones, tired eyes, sad, miserable eyes that still held fear.

You'd seen a look in Tony's eyes like that before. After Ultron. You knew he could get through it, well, you assumed he could but that was before you knew what they'd seen, what they'd both witnesses. You'd assume that blank yet mortified expression Peter held was simply because he'd never been in anything too bad before. A fight with Steve and then he had Vulture. Sure, Vulture was a big deal at the time but he wasn't much compared to what else laid out there. You just thought Peter's innocence had gotten the best of him and to an extent, it did. But there was so much more.

Peter stayed quiet. Tony had to be the one to tell you. Nearly everyone was dead. They'd met some people from space that helped them and they were okay, that's how Tony and Peter made it out. But, it seemed, mostly everyone else was gone. They all tried and if they hadn't, Thanos would still be here but he wasn't. It just came at a soul-crushing cost.

With that, you, Pepper, and Happy took care of Tony, looking out for him. Rhodey helped, too but he needed nearly as much help as Tony. It was a group effort, really. But, you weren't just working to help Tony, you were at Peter's side every step of the way with May. Peter usually stayed at the tower over breaks and weekends but May wanted him home with her. You, you wanted him at the tower but he needed to be home. He needed his own bed with his own flesh and blood. At least for a little while. Six months to be exact.

This was Peter's first weekend back at the tower. You were in the lab tinkering with some new tech for Peter. Pepper made Tony go to bed and Happy and Rhodey were asleep hours ago. You helped Peter to bed well over two hours prior. May says he doesn't like sleeping alone anymore and he can't sleep with the lights off. He acts like he doesn't mind, but his heart pounds in his ears and tears burn the back of his eyes until he gets up to turn the light on, opens his door. It broke your heart when May had given you that information. You weren't quite sure if it hurt more then or now. It's been months and while he's getting better, it's slow and it scares you. What if he's never going to be the same? Lord knows your dad hasn't been the same.

"Stark, Mr. Parker wants in the lab. Do you want me to allow him inside?" FRIDAY sounds from the speakers. You've finally convinced the AI to just use your last name rather than a title.

"Ha, funny. What's next? A knock-knock joke?" You roll your eyes, going back to your tinkering.

"Mr. Parker is at the door, Stark. I am not making a joke."

You sigh and turn around, knowing the AI well enough that Peter would be waiting at the door. You thought that once he was asleep, you'd be okay to sneak into the lab. You might take after Tony a little too much. You were worried sick about Peter and to keep your mind occupied, you found yourself in the lab, helping with the Iron-Spider suit. 

Peter looks of sleep but he's closed into himself. Pursed lips and arms wrapped around himself, as if trying to make himself as small as possible.

"Peter? You okay?" You ask as you allow FRIDAY to let Peter inside.

He doesn't look you in the eye. "I-I-I, you...you weren't..." Peter tries.

"Peter, I'm just working on stuff for your suit." You keep your voice calm and extend your arm but the second your fingers brush against Peter's exposed arm, he jerks away. His head quickly jerks up to you and his eyes are bloodshot. "Hey," You hold your hand out and Peter takes it. "It's just me. What's going on? You have a nightmare?"

"I-I'm sorry." Peter's voice is shaky, almost incoherent. "I-I-I didn't mean to move...I...I didn't mean to bug you. I-"

"It's okay. Come on." You pull him inside the lab and to your workbench. "I'll show you what I'm working on and you can tell me what's going on, okay?"

You knew he had a nightmare. Tony held the same expression plenty of times. He would jerk away if you'd suddenly touch him, as if you were the threat from his nightmares. He did the same with Pepper as well, even Rhodey. He'd quickly recover with a simple shake of his head and something about how he wasn't paying attention. Peter was doing the same and you couldn't blame him. What he saw was pure horror.

"You talk first and then I'll tell you what I'm working on."

"C-can you go first?" Peter mumbles, his grip on your hand suddenly tightening.

"No," You shake your head calmly. "You have to go first, okay? Make you a deal, you go first, then I go, and we'll both to bed and we'll both laugh when my dad throws a fit because," You stop and raise your voice a little, looking to the ceiling. "SOMEONE will tell him we roomed together." You reference FRIDAY before looking back to Peter.

Peter forces a smile but it quickly falls. "I-it just...it replays over and over again." Peter's voice is completely exhausted. "I saw..." Peter's eyes grow wide and he shakes his head, his grip tightens on yours once again before his eyes slam shut.

"Pete? Hey," You move your head to the side, waiting for his eyes to meet yours.

"Over and over and over..." Peter's eyes open and tears drip from the corners.

"D-does it...ya know, still hurt?" You look to Peter's neck where the bruises had finally healed.

Peter heals faster than normal people, a perk of him being superhuman but, those bruises, they lasted. They lasted so long, you swore you'd never see Peter without a turtleneck again. The bruises, if you could consider them more than one anyway, covered his entire neck where Thanos had gripped him to slam him into the ground, nearly killing him. Yes, the sight of your dad and him with sunken in eyes broke you but it was better than looking at the strangle marks across Peter's neck. His fragile neck that should have snapped.

"I-I'm not actually feeling anything." Peter says and his eyes meet yours.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"I-I mean, I do." Peter shakes his head and his grip loosens, leaving your hand red and he surely bruised it but it doesn't matter to you at all. "I do but it's different now. It doesn't hurt, I promise." Peter says quickly, as if he was waiting for you to tell him he was lying. "Really, it doesn't but sometimes...it's like...a ghost pain maybe but that's it. Then, I just don't feel anything. I-I-I feel numb." A few more tears fall and with your free hand, you wipe them from his cheeks.

"It's okay, you know? To be numb and be scared and all that? It's okay. And, I know it's cliche and everything, but I promise you, Peter, it will get better. It seems terrible right now, but I promise, it will be better. I've seen my dad go through it first hand and he's made it through before. He'll make it through again and so will you. And I'll be right here." You shake your other hand loose and cup his face. "I will hold you through all of this. If it's three in the morning and storming or four in the afternoon and the sun is shining bright. I'll be here helping you through the dark, alright?" Peter's mouth moves a little while his bottom lip quivers and you know he wants to ask you something but is too afraid. "Go on, it's just us."

Peter lets out a faltered breath. "C-can you...you please not go this time? When we go to my, or your, room? Please." Peter's voice is pleading but it wasn't even needing to be.

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"May, she says I need to try and sleep with the lights off." Peter's cheeks start to flush with embarrassment.

"I slept with a nightlight until I was eleven." You give him a smile and he raises a brow at you. "Yeah, eleven. Which, really says something because my dad is fucking Iron Man and I had JARVIS. The hell did I have to worry about?" You give him a laugh and Peter can't help but smile. Your laugh seems to help sometimes. "How about we just dim them? And besides," You start quickly, moving your hands back to Peter's. "If we have the lights dimmed, my dad won't be nearly as worried about what we were doing."

"Ugh." Peter shakes his head, an uncontrollable smile now tugging at his lips. "Is-is he gonna be, ya know? Mad?"

"Nah," You shake your head. "He might be like initially because wow you're in bed with his child's but he won't be...if...if you're okay with me telling him why. You know he talks to May so he knows. But, I think if one of us, mostly you, is up front, he won't care. He gets it."

"Okay." Peter nods. "Okay, we-we can try dimming the lights but you-you have to be there, okay? The whole time and wake me up if-"

"Peter." You cup his face again to calm him down. "I promise, I will wake you up even if I'm just going to the bathroom. You try with the lights dimmed and after half an hour if you're panicking, they go all the way up. I can sleep with the lights on, no problem. You just have to try."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Peter says quickly. "I will." He holds your wrists in his hands before speaking again. "So, what are you working on?"

"I guess you did share enough." You side smirk and look back to your bench, removing your grip but taking Peter's hand in yours, knowing he just wants the physical contact with you. "My dad, he wants your suit upgraded. Better protection just..." You trail off, glancing to Peter. "Just to be safe."

"So...what is it?" He asks hesitantly.

"Working on how to make the suit stronger. He almost crushed you." You stare at him and it's like his heart broke all over again. "Between Dad and me, you'll be indestructible in this suit. You know my dad looks at you like his own blood and well..." A blush finds its way to your cheeks as you move some of your tools around. "Ya know, I love you...a lot."

"You love me?" Peter asks.

You never told him. Which, yeah, maybe you should have. You wanted to, countless times even. You wanted to before the war and you really wanted to when he came back but you always talked yourself out of it. Peter, while more comfortable with you, was always a little timid and you were your father's child. You saw he dealt with people loving him and bits of you feared the idea of love itself. So, you never said it before.

And hell would have had to freeze over for you to say it after. Why? Because then it felt forced. One of those 'you should tell people how you feel before they're gone' things. Where you almost lost him and now you have to bare your soul to him. That's not how you wanted to do it and he didn't even speak for a solid month. Telling him you love him wouldn't have made anything any better.

You did think about it of course. You did when you really got a good look at the black bruises and cuts so deep he needed stitches. The broken rips that left him on bed rest. You almost told him when you really got to see the extent of what Thanos did to the frail boy. Thanos's hand was so large it wasn't just Peter's neck that was left with the bruise of fingerprints. It was etched across his chest. A reminder that his sternum snapped and almost killed him. It was just centimeters from his heart. You almost blurted out how much you loved him because he was, literally, broken. But you didn't. You just took care of him.

But, now you're sitting in the lab and you're adjusting his suit so the bruises acrosses his neck and chest won't ever happen again and you love him.

"Of course, I do." You give him a soft smile and then there's this glimmer of light in Peyer's eyes, a glimmer that seems to be emerging from the dark that's hidden it for six months. It's hope.

"C-can I kiss you?" Peter asks.

"If we can go to bed after." You smirk and within seconds Peter's cupping your face and your lips are pressed against his, melting under his touch as he leaves you completely breathless. "Missed this." You mumble into his mouth, realizing you two hadn't properly kissed since the war.

It just never felt right. You'd kissed but it was just a quick peck or it didn't feel right. It didn't feel like Peter. This though, this was deep and passionate with this small touch of shyness that was always, at its very core, Peter.

"I love you." Peter mumbles into your mouth before deepening the kiss.

"C'mon, then." You barely pull away to speak. "Let's get some sleep, aright?" You kiss him again and he nods.


	23. It's Not That Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter blames himself in the aftermath of the war

Your pencil tapped against our notebook as you were studying for your last final. One more final test and then you were done with high school. That was it. It was exhilarating. But, maybe, the best part was that you were ready to go to MIT with Peter, your boyfriend. You went to high school together and now you were going to to the same college. There couldn't be anything better. It was supposed to be perfect.

Supposed to.

But, as you tapped your pencil, your phone lit up with Peter's name, a picture of him with it. You picked up your phone and slid the answer option, putting the phone to your ear.

"Shouldn't you be studying?" You smile and lean back in your chair.

"Uh, yeah, probably." Peter's voice is monotone on the other end, a tell something was wrong.

"You okay, Pete?" The smile vanishes as you get up, preparing for him to say no and for you to rush over.

Ever since the end of the war, Peter's phone calls have more often than not been him needing an open ear. Someone to just listen. May helped, she did really but he did enjoy talking to you, someone who wasn't like a parent to him. It was different There wasn't a single time you ever ignored him, either. It was three in the morning once, you both had school, but you got out of bed, packed you backpack with school clothes. You left your parents a note and went off to Peter's, the phone never leaving your ear once as he begged you not to leave and just listen. But, he needed you. You knew he did by the tone of his voice. You expected this time to be no different.

"Uh...yeah, yeah." Peter says. "I-I just need to talk to you." You freeze with Peter's words and let out a sigh.

"Okay...need me to come over?"

"No, no." Peter says softly.

"You're breaking up with me, right? That's the 'need to talk' excuse."

"I-it's just not working." Peter's voice is rough and fragile.

"Right, right. Okay." You lick your lips and push the lump in your throat down.

"I'm so so sorry, y/n. I-I tried."

"It's fine, Peter. Are you at least at home doing this? Because it'd-"

"Yeah, I'm home."

"Okay." You answer softly. "Safe?"

"Yeah..."

"So, that's it then?"

"I'm sorry." Peter's voice cracks and you can't help but chew on your lip.

"I know. Me too." You sigh. "I'll see you on the flip side."

"Yeah, yeah." Peter says as you end the call.

Peter lays back in his bed, lifting his shirt and wincing at the scar wraps around his rips to his stomach. Flashes of the war come across Peter's vision and he groans, his hands moving to cover his face. He tries to deal with it, tries to move past it but nothing seems to be working. He has the physical and mental scars to prove it. The one person who would understand, the one who would be able to help him the most, died. Right in front of him. Now, what was he left with?

He had some other people, ones that survived, that were willing to help but it wasn't the same. Not really. And May tried, she tried so hard but part of her trying was hovering and Peter hated it. He did have you. You didn't understand anything at all but you were what he had and he truly loved it and you to death but, at the end of the day, he didn't feel right about you or him or your relationship. Nothing felt right anymore.

About twenty minutes when there's a knock on Peter's door.

"Please, not now, May."

The door creaks open anyway and you walk in. "Not May."

"W-what're...what're you doing here?" Peter immediately sits up in bed and swings his legs off the edge.

"I know you." You chuckle. "And I'm not gonna take a damn phone and a 'it's not working' for a breakup. If you wanna break up, fine. You've been through some shit. But, you don't get to end it over the phone and you don't get to give me that bullshit cop-out of an excuse because that's what's up. So, do you not love me anymore?"

It hurt. Hell, it felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest but ti didn't matter. Peter was honest. He stuttered a lot when he got extra nervous or super excited but he was honest. It was something you always admired about him. If he felt he couldn't state the whole truth, he would come up with a way to beat around the bush and get anyone to lay off. Peter was very good at it, except when it came to people like you who knew him better than anyone. You knew when there was more and he didn't want to say. Normally, you didn't push but this was your relationship and you weren't going to let your world walk out on you for nothing.

"O-of course! Of course I do, you know I do." Peter says with a broken voice.

"Okay, so what isn't working, Peter?"

His head hangs and he starts picking at his nails. "Everything, I guess."

"Come on, what's going on?" You walk over and kneel in front of him. "You can tell me. Why...if it's not working, why not tell me what isn't working and we can fix it? You're not someone who just gives up."

"I-I just...you deserve better." Peter meets your eyes and they're a pale pink as if he'd been crying earlier.

"Who told you you weren't good enough?"

Peter shakes his head and his hands start to shake. "I could have done something." He says quietly, his eyes not leaving yours while his face becomes consumed with guilt. "I could have done it better, done anything. There was so much more. If I would have just stayed here like he said, he wouldn't have been out there. If...if I would have taken up his chance offer...you know, to begin with, I would have more training y/n. I would have and maybe I could have defended myself and Mr. Stark wouldn't have had to save me and he-"

"Hey, hey. You gotta stop that." You shake your head. "It's not your fault. You know he would have been out there fighting, you up on that damn ship or not. It's who he was. He was a hero. He was your hero, Peter."

"But I let him down." Peter's voice cracks and tears brim in the corners of his eyes.

"Nah," You get up and move to sit beside him on the bed, one leg on the bed and the other on the floor so you could face him. "He would be proud of you. You went out there, in over your head, but they needed your help and you did it. He would be proud of you. You didn't let Mr. Stark down, Peter."

"I could have been better." Peter looks to you and all you can do is stretch your arms out. He leans into you and you brush your hands through his hair, kissing the top of his head.

"You were fine, I promise."

"I'm sorry..." Peter croaks as he pulls on your shirt to bring you closer to him, as if you were a security blanket. "I-I-I-I don't know what to do and-" Peter swallows, tears now flowing freely. "I don't want you hurt and-" A soft sob escapes his lips as he shakes his head against your shoulder. "And I don't want anyone hurt again."

"I'm fine. May is fine. Ned, MJ, we're all fine, Peter. We're all gonna be fine because we have you. You did something incredible and you came home. So," You pull away, just enough to pull his face up to look at yours. "I'm gonna take care of you, okay? You're always looking out for everyone else so I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna get you help."

"Why?" Peter's lip quivers as he scans your face for answers.

"Because I love you." You give him a soft smile as you nod your head. "So, you need to nap. How much sleep have you gotten?"

"You don't have to." Peter pulls away and wipes his face.

"I want to. Us, we can sort that out whenever. I'll be here when you're ready. It's not that it's not working, it's that you are dealing with everything that happened. So, we'll talk us out later. For now, I'll be here for you just like I always have been."

Peter takes a deep breath and gives you a reluctant nod. "Thank you."


	24. Sorry, What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Peter have a bit of a rivalry, but, you’re the only one who knows why

The afternoon was going like any other. You’d just wrapped up what you were working on in the lab to grab some lunch and relax the rest of the day. But, as you entered the kitchen, your eyes fell on the tower’s newest house guest, Peter. He didn’t actually live at the tower. He chose to stay with his aunt but he did spend a fair amount of time there, enough that he might as well just take up his room. You rolled your eyes and walked past him, him sitting at the counter and eating a sandwich.

“Hey.” He says between bites.

“Hi?” You don’t bother facing him as you look through the fridge.

You were not a fan of Peter Parker. Silence falls between the two of you, Peter taking the hint you don’t want him to talk, not that you ever wanted him to talk. When he’d show up at the tower, he’d usually be a ball of energy and start rambling off something to your dad who was happy to listen to Peter’s enthusiasm. You always ditched off into the lab as soon as it started.

You heard Peter sigh as you started making your own sandwich.

“You piss me off.” You finally look at him, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“I-I didn’t even do anything.” Peter says, his face completely distraught.

“Uh, you’re breathing, are you not?”

Peter’s eyes widen as your grip on the handle of your knife tightens. He really had no idea why you hated him so much. He was always kind to you and tried to engage in conversation. Peter asked what you were working on and asked you about his tech, something he knows you enjoy. But, you always groaned and walked away, mumbling a simple “ask my dad.” and leaving Peter to himself.

“Ah, Mr. Parker,” Tony says as he walks into the kitchen. “Got some new tech for you today. Be ready in half an hour.” Tony gives him a smile before turning his attention to you. “How’s your work going?”

“Fine.” You answer, going back to making your sandwich while the air turns stiff.

“Need help? You seem tense.” Tony’s smile starts to fall as he watches you.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, glancing up to him.

“Are you sur-”

“Dad, I got it. I’m just taking a break.” You cut him off and he gives you a displeased look. “Sorry. I need a nap.”

“Right,” Tony nods and goes back to Peter. “Half hour.” The corner of his mouth twitches into another small smile.

“Yeah, yeah, for sure, Mr. Stark. Thank you.” Peter smiles and nods before Tony walks off, sending you one last curious look.

The air falls silent once more as Peter gets up from his seat, plate in hand. He walks over a foot away from you so he can wash his plate in the sink. You glare at him while you eat, ready for him to just go off and get ready for whatever your dad is preparing for him but Peter can’t let that be so easy.

“W-why, uh, why don’t you like me…?” Peter asks, shutting off the water.

“Because I don't.” You shrug, holding a straight face before taking a bite of your food.

“Yeah, but, but why?” Peter faces you and plays with his fingers.

“Because.” You repeat, growing more annoyed.

“I like you.” Peter says softly.

“What did you say?” You almost choke on your food with Peter’s words.

“Y-yeah, ya know, you’re cool.” He shrugs. “And really smart. But, you hate me and I don’t know why because I try to be nice to you and try to leave you alone when you want me to which I guess is all the time but I’m always nice when I do see you and you’re...not.” Peter rambles as his cheeks glow a soft red hue.

As much as you dislike him, you do find yourself feeling bad. He has been nice to you and you’ve been mean to him. Everyone that’s meant him has grown to adore him. He’s adorable and he is very kind. A little twitchy, but he does seem to have a good heart, especially with the way your dad speaks of him.

“You’re everything I’m not.”

“What?” Peter furrows his brows, dropping his hands.

“My dad talks about you all the time. The things you can do and ways to improve your suit, better designs for the future and different situations. He talks about the stuff you do and the voicemails you leave him. It’s annoying.”

“T-I’m sorry.” Peter says. “I, I don’t know why he does that…”

“Because, it’s cool.” You roll your eyes. “It’s cool. The things you can do, it’s fucking weird but it’s cool. You give him something new to work on. He had to figure out the formula you made for your web fluid in order to get your web shooters to work correctly. It’s different. You're different so he talks about you.”

“Yeah...but he talks about you, too.”

“Yeah, right.” You scoff.

“He does. He told me about how you helped with Mr. Rhodes, helping him walk again. And that you’re always helping him with everything and he told me that you even designed parts for my suit and you can rework anything that’s thrown at you without even thinking.” Peter goes back to rambling and all you can do is watch him with raised brows.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Peter shrugs, his voice coming back down to just above a whisper. “H-he’s proud of you.”

You sigh and hop onto the counter, taking a seat and allowing your legs to swing. “It’s not that.” You close your eyes for a second. “It’s just, I’m this...I’m this version of him. You know? So, I fix things and I invent things and I spend most of my time in the lab. I’m a smaller version of him. And I’m okay with that. He’s my dad but then I see the way he is with you and it,” You pauses for a second and grit your teeth. “It irks me. I don’t know why because I know he loves me and all that shit. I know. I do. He shows it, in his own way. But it’s like, but what if I had some weird power like you? He’d be creating stuff for me and we’d be working together more and…” You shake your head. “I don’t know. I don't’ want to be the next Iron Man or anything, I see what that’s done. But I want to take over Stark Industries one day. I just want to be good enough, I guess and you seem to be just fine without even trying.”

Peter looked to the floor, not sure how to respond. “Uh, well, I-I don’t..uh, I do try.” Peter chuckles softly.

“Yeah,” You roll eyes with a huff. “But, I mean, you don’t even have to. Everyone likes you and everyone wants to know more and everyone want to help you, especially my dad. It’s just, I know it’s stupid.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “I know it is. But, when your dad is always trying to save the world and now you’re seeing him being a mentor to someone else, it’s different and it sucks.” You bite the inside of your cheek while Peter’s eyes never leave you. “I don’t know why. He keeps in touch with Harley and his mom and I’m chill with them. I guess I just see you as competition.”

Peter scoffs. “You’re-you’re a Stark! How could I ever compete with that? You’re a genius and you can create things no one else ever thinks of. Your dad is the Tony Stark! This is all yours," Peter gestures his hands out. "And you know how it all works. You probably helped put everything together and do maintenance repairs by yourself. You can’t compete with me and you shouldn’t. Mr. Stark is _your_  dad and that’s…” Peter’s voice trails off. “You’re important to him. I know. I’m not competition. I’m just...I’m just me and I fix computers and then help old ladies with directions.”

You let out a laugh, the first genuine laugh Peter has ever heard from you. “You’re Spider-Man, I think you do a little more than help old ladies and fix computers.”

Peter blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “But, I’m not you. Really, you’re kind of Mr. Stark’s world...if you ask me...anyway, which I know you didn’t b-”

“You can stop rambling.” You roll your eyes again.

“Sorry,” Peter says. “I, uh, I can stop coming around so much… if it bothers you. I-I don’t want to come between you and your dad.”

“No,” You shake your head and swing your feet. “No, you...you’re fine.” You suck up your pride. “I-I’ll suck it up and just have a conversation with my dad. I know the last thing he wants is me sitting here thinking this bs.” You scoff. “And, talking to you, you’re not so bad, Parker.”

Peter smiles, the red tint not shedding. “T-thanks.”

“But you like me, huh?” You wiggle your brows.

“Don’t tell your dad!” Peter spits out his words.

You toss your head with a laugh. “Trust me, the last thing on this planet I want to talk to my dad about is boys even little spider ones he likes.”

Peter lets out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t thank me.” You smirk. “If I’m going to suck up my pride and have an adult conversation with dad and actually try to get along with you, I get to tease you and watch you be all flustered.”

Peter’s smile drops as he watches you hop down. “W-what?”

“Good talk.” You walk up to him and pat his shoulder. “You’ve got some tech you need to try. Catch you later, Spiderling.”


	25. Still Having Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter accidentally wakes you up while having a nightmare, causing him to question your relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Nightmares by All Time Low

Peter’s fists gripped the sheets as tight as his hands would allow. He mumbles incoherent words while his legs kicked slightly. He stirred more and more with every passing second. The sound of his heart pounded through his skull, flashbacks playing back in a dream. Whimpers fell from his lips as the smallest tears slipped from the corner of his eyes. Peter released the sheet with one hand and punched out, connecting right with your back. It scared you awake with a yell while you held your back in pain. You look over and every ounce of pain you had just felt was washed away when you saw the look on Peter’s face.

“Pete?” You said but he just stayed whimpering. “Peter, hey, you gotta wake up.” Your voice was a little louder and you lightly shook him.

With a loud yell, Peter’s hands came in front of him and he started punching the air, lucky for you, you were expecting it and were already backing away.

“Peter!” You yelled over his screaming, extending your arms to grab his hands. “It’s me! It’s me! Y/n. You’re okay!” You struggled against him but his eyes found yours and he stopped moving, his chest heaving.

“D-did I…”

“It’s okay.” You take a deep breath, but don’t release his wrists.

Peter swallows hard as tears start to slip down his cheeks. “I-I-I’m sorry. I…” He’s catching his breath while your brows are furrowed. “I didn’t...hurt you...again?”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head as you lie, ignoring the throbbing in your back you were now aware of again.

Peter hangs his head and takes his wrists from you, wiping his cheeks. “You don’t have to lie.”

“It’s fine, Peter.”

“No, no it’s not.” Peter looks back to you with a cracked voice and hollowed eyes. “It’s not okay.” He tosses the rest of the blanket from him and gets up.

“Where’re you going?” You turn to face him while he turns on the lamp.

“I-I just… I gotta go.” Peter looks around the floor before going to the closet and yanking one of his t-shirts out and tossing it over his head.

“It’s…” You look over at the alarm clock. “Two in the damn morning. C’mere.”

“No.” He shakes his head and his lips quivers.

“P-”

“No.” Peter says again as he slides on a pair of sweatpants. “I-I can’t keep doing this. I wake you up every other night and…” He stops as he looks you over.

Your skin is decorated in bruises of all shades. Some were yellow and some are black. Others were purple and some blue. They were everywhere. There was still a little bit of yellow accenting both of your eyes from a few weeks prior when Peter had broken your nose in his sleep. He swore he’d never forgive himself for that even though it was an accident and you promised you’d sleep on the couch until his nightmares would at least slow down but you went back on that promise rather quickly.

It wasn’t easy sleeping on the couch, not that it wasn’t comfortable but because of your lack of Peter. He almost died and not sleeping with him was like a ghost pain. He was there, just down the hall and you’d wake up if he stirred awake but he wasn’t beside you. He almost died and you couldn’t remember the night before, if you’d fallen asleep on his chest or wrapped his arms. You suddenly couldn’t remember the sound of his heartbeat, something you knew better than your favorite song. You couldn’t even remember if you said you loved him before he left even though it’s something you did every single time. Sleeping on the couch, it was like Peter still wasn’t home and you never wanted to get used to sleeping without him. So, you took the risk and begged Peter with tears in your eyes not to take the couch either.

He tried. He stayed awake until you fell asleep and then he’d tried but you always woke up. You were suddenly in tune with any time he’d wake up. You worried about him nonstop so if he woke up, you knew, except one time. But, that one time, he was only on the couch for half an hour until you stumbled into the living room with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, sleepy eyes and a pout on your face. You both gave up on sleeping separately after that but it’s come at a price.

“I’m okay.” You say the words slowly as you get out of bed.

He shakes his head and backs away from you as you approach him. You stop dead in your tracks as you feel a lump form in your throat. He looks horrified, like he was the most dangerous person to walk the face of the planet and if you even came near him, you’d shatter.

“It’s not okay. You’re not okay. You shouldn't be hurt because of me.” His eyes darted back and forth as he slipped out of the bedroom, you following a few feet behind him.

“It’s not your fault.” You say and those words seem to snap something in Peter.

He spins around, you nearly running into him. “Not my fault?” His voice raises. “Not my fault? I punch you and kick you in my sleep. I don’t know the difference between you and some damn alien that tried fucking kill me half the damn time! My chest hurts every single day and my first reaction is to start swinging because I need to get out and I’m terrified this is some dream or if I can fight my out of it then I’ll be okay and no one will be dead! Not my fault?” His voice echoes through your bones as he keeps getting louder and his face reddens. “This!” Peter grabs your wrist and turns your arm, showing the bruises. “This is me! I did that to you!”

“You didn’t do on purpose.” You shake your head as your eye gloss over.

“Bu-but I did it! I did it! I can kill you. I could kill you and-and-and-and-” Peter stammers, his hands now extended just barely in front of him. “I-I can’t do that.” His voice comes back down as he swallows hard and another tear falls.

“W-we can get through it.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

“Yeah?” Peter says, his lips tugging up at the corner in heartbreak. “Why’s your heart beating out of your chest? You’re afraid.”

You look down and shake your head. “No, I’m not.” Your voice wavers.

“Yeah, yeah you are.” Peter sucks on his teeth and turns back around, heading for the door.

“Peter, I promise.” You follow after him again.

He reaches the door and faces you. “I can’t keep hurting you and I can’t...you shouldn't be afraid of me. And you shouldn’t be awake every night making sure I’m okay. I know you don’t sleep and it’s been months and it’s not fair to you. I-this...it can’t-” Peter trips over his words, too many emotions flooding his veins at once. “I can’t let this keep happening.” His voice is almost as sad as the day he came home, the day he told you Tony died.

“It will get better.” Your voice is delicate and soft but pleading.

“No,” He shakes his head and cups your face softly, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “I-I gotta go to May. I gotta stay with May and I gotta...I gotta do me.”

“Please, just wait until the morning, please, Peter.” Your lip starts to quiver as your hands grasp his.

“If I don’t-if I don’t go now I won’t go at all and I can’t hurt you again.” He shakes his head before placing a lingering kiss on your forehead, warm tears leaking from your eyes.

“Please…” You say as Peter pulls away.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Peter says, wiping his eyes as he opens the door.

“But...I love you.” Your words a mere whine and Peter stops.

He looks back at you and he knows leaving is breaking your heart. He knows it’s killing you to watch him walk out, especially in the middle of the night but, he knows his strength. One night, it’s gonna be too much or in the wrong place and you’re gonna end up with much worse than just a broken nose and one night he could kill you. He can stop a bus with his bare hands, it’s only a matter of time before that strength is used on you during one of his nightmares. Breaking your heart was better than killing you.

“I know.” Peter forces himself to say before leaving, not looking back again.


	26. A Heart Like Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter doesn’t know what he did to deserve someone like you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by A Heart Like Yours by Willamette Stone

A steady stream of beeping filled the air that was all too clean. The walls too white even in the dimmed light. It’s cold and uncomfortable. The atmosphere is sullen and laced with the lingering feeling of death. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. This wasn’t supposed to happen at all. Peter’s hand gripped yours while his reddened eyes looked to you, a tube coming from your throat, your eyes closed and your chest moving a steady up and down motion with every breath.

“Peter?” May says as she walks in, leaving the door open. Peter looks to her but looks back to you. “You should go home. I’ll stay.” May whispers as she rests a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“No.” Peter shakes his head with the simple response.

“You haven’t been home in two days. You need to shower and get new clothes.” May’s voice remains calm and smooth as she rubs Peter’s back.

“It’s my fault. I can’t leave.” Peter mumbles, sleep etched in every word.

“If anything changes, I’ll call, okay? Go home for an hour.” May pleads and Peter looks up to her, his now oily curls falling flat across his forehead.

“Yeah.” Peter looks back to you.

“You don’t want to look this when they wake up.” May nudges him and he nods.

“Yeah.” Peter says again, completely monotone. His fingers tap the back of your hand as he lets go. His eyes linger on you as he stands up, his heart weighing heavy with the weight of the world. How is supposed to leave you?

“Peter, it’s okay.” May reassures him as her hands move to his arms to lead him away from your bed.

“Their parents aren’t even here.” Peter mumbles, his eyes still glued to you. “Doesn’t matter how old you are or…” Peter’s jaw clenches. “Whatever, I’m all they have here.”

May nods and her brows furrow as her heart aches for her nephew. “I’ll be here the entire time.”

“Okay.” Peter shakes his head, prying his eyes from you so he could leave.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. None of it. His reflexes are fast. His heightened senses are lifesavers. He always has web fluid but yet, you were laying in a coma in a hospital bed because none of the things worked how they were supposed to.

He was called the Hobgoblin. Peter had been fighting him but he’d went off, likely to heal and come up with a new plan to kill Peter which nearly worked. He popped up a few months later. Peter was out fighting him, late into the night but you were at work. You were just trying to get home after your shift but you ran right into their fight and Peter’s senses caught onto you but not as quick as the Hobgoblin’s eyesight. He pushed Peter out of the way and grabbed you while Peter tried to use a web catch you, it jammed. The tech jammed thanks to the damage it already sustained.

Peter chased as fast as he could, the taunts from Hobgoblin mixing with your screams, fueling him to keep going. But, that’s when he reached the river and he gave off the worst laugh you or Peter had ever heard before saying a quick ‘bye bye’ and dropping you.

He knew that Peter would be distracted with you drowning in the freezing water but what he didn’t know was that that would make Peter move quicker. He was able to get one of his webshooters to start working and webbed up the Hobgoblin after knocking him out cold. Peter couldn’t jump in the river quick enough after. The suit helped warm him while he got you, you already unconscious from the freezing water, a large laceration on your forehead from the rocks. Peter held you close to him, hoping the heater from the suit would help warm you while he got you to the hospital.

It did. It did help but not quite enough. You were now in a coma thanks to below freezing waters and the injuries you sustained from hitting a few of the rocks. They weren’t sure if you were going to wake up or not and when they told Peter, it nearly killed him right then and there.

Peter blames himself. He always walked you home but he should have had KAREN call you to tell you what was happening. He just didn’t want to worry you but had you known, you would have been careful. You wouldn’t have even walked by yourself, or maybe you would have called May to pick you up but that’s what happened. He thought he would handle the Hobgoblin by himself and it’d be okay.

It was supposed to be okay.

He was supposed to protect you and he couldn’t do it. He said it was going to happen but you insisted that it didn’t matter because you loved him.

* * *

_“Y-you’re gonna get hurt one day and it’s not right.” Peter rambles as he takes the bloodied rag from hand._

_“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You say that all the time but you’re always the one getting hurt.” You take the rag back with narrowed eyes and start dabbing the blood away from his forehead._

_“You didn’t sign up for this.” Peter whispers, his forehead wrinkled with guilt._

_You shrug and stop moving, dropping your hand. “So, we aren’t dating when you’re Spider-Man, just when you’re Peter, like right now.” You give him a cornered smile and the perfect brown haired boy chuckles._

_“That’s not what I meant.”_

_“I know.” You nod and go back to cleaning up his wound. “But I don’t care.”_

_“I-I-I-” Peter stammers, trying to get his words out. “I just don’t want you hurt.” The very thought of you getting hurt, especially because of him, is soul crushing._

_“I won’t. You’re Spider-Man. This is your job. I didn’t sign up for this, but I’m okay with it.”_

_“Why?” Peter asks, curious eyes looking up to you._

_“Because I love you.” You say matter-of-factly._

_“Y-you do?” Peter’s jaw drops._

_It’s the first time you’ve said it. It’s been true for a long time, maybe even since the day you met him but it never felt right to say it until now. You loved him. You loved every lame joke and science pun that left his mouth even if you didn’t completely understand him. Peter laughed at his jokes and that was enough to get you laughing, not at him, but just because he was adorable and has the best laugh. You love the way his eyes shine and light up when he talks about his favorite films and video games, something cool that happened in one of his morning classes he shouldn’t have been so wide awake for. You love Peter because he has the world’s largest heart. Spider-Man or not, you loved him and it didn’t matter that he might not come back one night and it didn’t matter that you could get hurt because you loved Peter._

_“Of course I do.” You giggle as you feel heat rise to your cheeks._

_“I love you, too.” Peter beams with flushed cheeks and a lopsided smile._

_“Dork.” You roll your eyes but peck his lips before continuing to fix him up._

* * *

Peter looked in the mirror and there were blood stains where a cut hand been and a very faint blue tint was still accenting his cheek. This was nothing compared to you. He shook it off and got in the shower, trying to only think about the warm water running down his back.

He finished up and changed clothes. He swapped to a shirt you’d gotten him for his birthday. It was something you got customized just for him and he wore it once a week for the first four months after getting it.

Peter’s a walking cliche. It’s just another thing you really love about him but, with that, comes some very adorable moments and one of which being on your one year anniversary, Peter got a necklace made for you. It’s a heart, a simple silver heart but instead of his initials engraved on it or his name or something like ‘forever’, it’s engraved with Orion’s Belt. When Peter gave it to you, he explained that it’s one of his favorite constellations but, because he’s Peter, he continued with saying he thinks you two might be written in stars in somewhere. You never took the necklace off. And, you loved it so much that you got him a shirt with your favorite constellation. You’d never seen Peter so starstruck and it just made you fall that much more in love with him.

The shirt always brought Peter happiness, until now. Now, it’s just sad because your necklace is a bag with your clothes and you’re hooked up to machines and tubes and monitors and it’s his fault. But, he wears the shirt anyway because it reminds him of your happiness. It’s a hope that if he wears it, maybe, it’ll make the universe bring you back to him.

Peter left his apartment and grabbed a quick sandwich to eat on his way back to the hospital. His phone remained silent in his pocket. A bit of his heart dropped with the silence. If it went off, maybe that meant you’d woken up but nothing. It was silent.

When Peter reached the hospital, May was seated in the chair beside your bed reading a book. Her glasses hung a little low on her nose and she looked lost in the words printed on the white paper.

“Nothing new?” Peter asks.

“I’m sorry, Peter.” May says, looking up to him as she sticks her finger in the book to close it.

“They’re never gonna wake up.” Peter’s head hangs as his voice cracks.

“It’s only been two days. Give it some time.” May stands and brings her nephew in for a hug.

“I’m just-” Peter pulls away. “I’m just gonna sit.” Peter wipes the few tears that had managed to slip while he goes back to the seat May was sitting in, taking your hand in his.

May watches Peter and she can’t help but question what she’s going to do. Your odds are not good. The doctors said it was fine to hope but, don’t hope too much, not for now. Peter, Peter is hopeful. He’d devastated and crushed and broken but there’s hope coursing through his veins with every passing second and every beat of your heart. May, she’s not so hopeful. She has enough, but she also has enough doubt to know she’s not going to even know what to tell Peter if you don’t make it. Peter is hoping for the best while May is preparing for the worst.

The next day came and then it went. The day after came…and then it went. Soon a week passed and then another. Peter had nearly ditched his Spider-Man duties in order to sit by your bedside. The flowers in your room were dead. Peter’s friends had already stopped trying to get a hold of him, all but one. Doctors’ eyes no longer look at you with sorrow but they looked at Peter. They were sad for him because they accepted your fate and Peter hasn’t. May was stuck trying to pry Peter from the hospital, all of it being useless.

That’s when she called in her last resort. Tony Stark.

“Kid, it’s hard but you need to get out of that damn room.” Tony says, the two standing outside in the chilled air with the upcoming spring.

“I have to be there.” Peter says, his voice now a near permanent monotone.

“What happened to you being the kid I knew a few years back? The one that said you had to use your powers to prevent those bad things? You think sitting in that hospital room is helping anyone? Including y/n.”

Peter glares at his mentor. “What if it were Miss Potts? Or Happy?”

“It was.” Tony says, his voice level despite Peter’s challenging tone. “You have to get up and keep going.”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek and his head hung, his neck aching from the constant position. “Queens is doing just fine without me.” Peter shakes his head and goes to walk away but Tony stops him.

“You’re killing yourself, kid.”

“M-maybe,” Peter shugs. “It was supposed to be me and they don’t deserve it.”

“That’s not how it works.” Tony shakes his head, a sigh escaping his lips. “They wouldn’t want you wasting away at their bedside.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Stark.” Peter ignores Tony’s words and leaves him outside, Peter walking back through the sliding door.

Peter gets to your hospital bed and takes his seat. He looks you over and you don’t look any different besides the bruising that was on your arms and one that was on your face. They’ve since either healed or faded to nearly nothing. But, everything else looks as it did the first day you were admitted. You didn’t look like yourself. You held this sadness with the tubes and monitors.

Peter sighs and leans his elbows beside you on the bed. They say talking is good. They don’t know what happens when you’re in a coma but they still say talking is good. That it might help. So, Peter talks. He’s read you your favorite book and he plays your favorite music. He played the first song you danced to on repeat for an entire day. To say he cried a river would be an understatement. But, nothing. You remained the same.

“Y/n…” Peter starts, his voice barely a whisper. “You have to wake up. I-I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without you which is really confusing because I didn’t even know you four years ago but now…” He trails off as he can feel tears burning behind his eyes. He thought he’d cried all his tears out but apparently not. “I just, I can’t do this without you. I’m a mess and you love me anyway and I don’t know why and I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you and now I really have to question everything and you need to wake up.” A soft sob escapes Peter’s mouth. “Please,” Peter begs. “You have the best heart and you for some reason, chose me and I choose you so I need you to choose to wake up.” Peter cries, holding your hand, pleading for you to wake up.

It wasn’t always easy but he’d give anything to hear your voice yelling at him or lecturing him. Making fun of him for being so worried all the time. He just wanted to hear your voice again. Something but all he heard were those damn monitors he wanted to start smashing in. Peter was beginning to know the monitors better than your actual heartbeat and it infuriated him. All it did was remind of everything he did to not deserve you. Every fight you ever had. Hell, it reminded it of the fight that went for hours, but it was the one that made him realize he was so fucking in love with you, he’d knew it was gonna hurt when he lost you.

* * *

_It’s been hours. Both of your throats are completely raw from yelling. Peter’s ears were red with anger and your mouth was pressed into a straight line. Your blood boiled and Peter’s hands shook. You were so mad at him for lying all this time you were out of your damn mind to not up and walk out. There was something keeping you in his apartment and you weren’t sure what it was. Peter, on the other hand, had every reason to tell you to walk out. But, he had every reason to beg you not to._

_“You can’t just expect me to be okay with this, Peter!” You screamed._

_“I’m not asking you to be!” Peter yelled back._

_“Why didn’t you just tell me?”_

_“Oh yeah,” Peter scoffed. “Hey, I’m Spider-Man, wanna grab a coffee? I don’t know, y/n, why would I tell you?”_

_“I mean,” Your eyes grew bigger as you clenched your jaw, not having Peter’s smart remark. “Why didn’t you tell me months ago? When I was asking about your cuts and bruises? Now, you’re telling me because you were MIA? Real good boyfriend, you are.”_

_“No!” Peter yells. “I’m not! I tried telling you that! But you didn’t listen! I told you I’m not good at relationships! You said it was okay! Now, you know why!”_

_You took a deep breath. “You could have told me sooner.”_

_“I can’t take it back.” Peter says, lowering his voice. “I-I can’t. I’m sorry, okay? I am. I promise. I would never hurt you.”_

_“I should leave.” You say but it’s almost a pout._

_“I wouldn’t blame you.” Peter says. “But, I’d ask you to stay.” He licks his lips and looks to the floor._

_“Why?” You furrow your brows._

_“Y-you…before you…just…I’m-I’m just me, ya know?” Peter’s cheeks flush. “But, then I put on the mask, I’m Spider-Man and I’m someone. But, then there’s you.” He looks up to you and his heart starts beating hard against his ribs. “I-I feel, I feel like someone because of you. You don’t deserve someone like me. I’m flakey and twitchy and it’s dangerous but you’ve stuck around this long. You showed me…” Peter bites the inside of his cheek. “You showed me that I’m someone as Peter Parker.”_

_“You’ve always been someone.” You say quietly and every bit of you that was mad at him for keeping his alter ego a secret vanished. “You’re always going to be someone to me.”_

_“How can someone like you ever like someone like me?” Peter questions._

_“You might be a terrible boyfriend, but because, you have a big heart. I’m mad at you.” You sigh and walk up to him. “I’m gonna be mad but I’m not going anywhere.” Peter’s face perks up as you approach him. “But you have to tell me about Spider-Man because now I know and that is so awesome.” You smirk and Peter lets out a laugh._

_“You’re, uh, you’re amazing, ya know?” Peter snakes his arms around you as if you two weren’t just arguing for the past two hours._

_“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” You give him a confident smile before pecking his lips. “All good?”_

_“Yeah, good.” Peter sends you a soft smile before pulling you in for a deeper kiss._

* * *

Another week came and went. May has since been able to convince Peter to at least go out for an hour or two to try and get back into some type of routine. He had fallen too far behind in his college classes to catch up now and that was only making Peter worse. At least, if he could go out and help a kid find their parents and rescue a stray dog from getting hit by a car, he’d maybe feel like he had a purpose again. He needed something.

Peter was out and he was swinging between buildings. There were parts of him that felt alive again. He’d felt dead for a month and now, now his body was flying through the air in the suit he adored and the first smile in a month found its way onto his mouth. KAREN is in his ears and for the first time, Peter thinks he might be okay for a little bit. But, the weight of you in the hospital because of him still lingered in the back of his mind. So, when May called and told him to get to the hospital, his heart could have shot out of his chest while his breath caught in his throat.

He raced as fast as he could. May didn’t give detail. All she said was to come and that was it. She hung up before Peter could ask anything. KAREN was in his ears, trying to calm him down but he couldn’t hear her over the racing beat of his heart that sounded like a stampede of elephants.

He was so sure you were gone and that’s why May didn’t say anything. But, there was this little bit of hope, the little bit of him that will always stay optimistic, that you were okay. You had to be okay because you’re you and you don’t give up that easy. You’re too stubborn, too stubborn to leave when he tells you he’s a terrible boyfriend and you could get hurt.

You had to be okay.

Peter got to the hospital, quickly tossing his hoodie and sweatpants over his suit and his mask in the backpack he’d ditched in the alley. He nearly ran into your room, nurses and doctors telling him to slow down but him completely ignoring them. It was all like tunnel vision. Get to your room, apologize later. When he got to your room, his stampede of a heartbeat stopped.

“Y-you’re…” Peter’s breathing is heaved as he tries to get words out. “You’re…awake.” Peter smiles and you nod, looking back at him, a smile on your face and tears in the corner of your eyes.


	27. Blown Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't go as planned in the war against Thanos

What is it like to love someone at such a young age? Some say it’s magical because you’ve been able to experience something so precious. Others will argue you’re far too young to comprehend exactly what love is. But, then, there are the other ones. Those who have been through hell and understand that while love is amazing and beautiful and it is so pure, it can kill you. It can rip you into a thousand pieces. Loving someone is giving them your heart and then trusting them not to break it.

But, here’s the problem, you trust Peter Parker more than anyone. You trust him with your life and your heart and your whole world, too. And he does the exact same, putting his own life on the line for you whenever he needs you and he does it without hesitation. Your both each other's person, each other's everything. So, what if, this isn’t his fault? What if this isn't your fault? What if him breaking your heart, you destroying him, isn’t his or your fault at all? It’s destiny.

You were on the front line, fighting side by side with Peter. You’re up against Thanos and he’s definitely something else. He’s stronger than all of you put together and it’s gonna take a lot if you’re going to get that gauntlet from him. Luckily, Quill had a great plan. It was so great and it nearly worked but then...then he found out that the person he loves is dead. Just...dead. While you were trying to help Tony and Peter get the gauntlet, Quill lost his mind. He started punching Thanos and that knocked Mantis loose and Thanos out of his trance. In a quick movement, you and Peter were being thrown to the side with the strength of Thanos’s arm.

You landed on Peter, lucky for you. He was able to catch you and save you from a horrible impact but it didn’t do him any good. His head smacked the ground, hard. He groaned out in pain while you did the same, you both heaving for breath. You rolled off of him and looked him over.

“Okay?”

Peter coughed a few times. “Yeah, yeah.” He nods.

“Let’s-”

“No.” Peter shakes his head and grabs your arm to keep you down. “Wait.” He says quietly.

You can both see Doctor Strange attacking Thanos but it doesn't take long before he’s also tossed to the side. He can just toss anyone he wants to the side and it’s so unfair. You’re all up against more than you can take on. There’s seven of you. Seven to one. The odds should be in your favor and they’re not and it’s becoming more and more evident.

Peter glances to you, his heart aching inside his chest with his bones feeling like they've all been shattered. He wants to get up and help more but if he does, you'll follow. You said you'd follow him anywhere and he'd said he'd follow you. It'd be the two of you against the world if that's what it took but neither of you thought that would ever need to be taken literally. So, he needed to stay where he was. He needed to let his anxiety flood his veins and hope that nothing happens. Hope to some fucking power stronger than him that Tony will come and fight Thanos. Strange will get up. Something will happen and everything will okay because he needs to get you both home safe.

Tony does come out of nowhere and Peter sits up, pulling you over behind a bigger rock so you can see without being seen yourselves. Tony shoots him with the new tech on his suit but it does nothing besides stun Thanos for a few seconds. Next thing you and Peter know, Thanos is attacking Tony and his suit is coming apart all over him.

“Peter?” You whisper. He looks to you, his eyes consumed in pain. “We’re not gonna make it...are we?”

“W-what?” He furrows his brows as you both look back to Tony with the sound of Tony grunting, Thanos stabbing him in the abdomen, the event taking place as if it were in slow motion. “Um...y-yeah...we-we have to.” Peter’s voice is barely audible as the words leave him, his eyes not moving from Tony.

Peter pulled you into him, shielding you from the sight in fear that you’d have to watch Tony die. You looked up to him just as much as Peter did and neither of you would be able to deal with the loss of him. He’s your mentor, he’s incredible. He’s Iron Man. Iron Man can’t die. If Iron Man dies….everyone dies.  _He can’t die._

“No…” Peter says as he watches Strange hand over the stone in order to spare Tony’s life.

Thanos grins and puts the stone in his gauntlet but Quill flies in and shoots him. Unfortunately, it did nothing besides send Quill flying into a few rocks and it gave Thanos more time to get away. Peter untucked you from him, his eyes staring at you with horror but trying to look calm.

“C’mon.” Peter mumbles.

You stumble as you try to get up. Something isn’t right. You can feel it in your bones. Something is wrong. Everything hurts so much and all you want to do is cry out. You fell, you were hit hard. Harder than you’d ever been hit but this...this was different. You’d never felt this type of emptying pain before.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” Peter asks, cupping your face with his hands.

“I-I don’t know.” You mumble and Peter's face drops.

This can't be happening. He knows that look. He knows that look because it's the same look he saw his uncle Ben have right before he died. You were dying. And he knew it. Peter needed to get you help but how was he supposed to do that? There was no help around. You were going to die in his arms if he didn't do anything.

“Y-you just got hit really hard.” Peter says but his voice is unconvincing. "Uh, here." Peter takes your arm and drapes it over his shoulder. "We'll-we'll get you to Mr. Stark and you'll be okay, okay?"

You look to your boyfriend and nod with his words, convinced he was wrong. They say you know. You just know when you're gonna die. It's this feeling that just...happens. Like, you can feel yourself ready to leave the world even if you're not mentally ready and you felt it. Everything was heavy and you were so fucking exhausted and scared. You wanted to go home.

“We lost, didn’t we?” Quill says as you approach the group.

“Something isn’t right.” Mantis says and just as you got to look at her, she starts to turn to ash and disappears. It only took seconds and then she was just gone.

“Peter.” You say, panic in your voice.

“No.” He say shortly as you both stand in horror, watching Drax turn to ash and disappear immediately followed by Quill and then Strange, leaving you, Peter, and Tony.

“Peter…” You say again and he looks to you, your arm still draped around his neck, his heart sinking.

“No, no, no, no.” Peter rambles. "Y/n, no."

“I-I....” You stammer as tears come and you collapse, Peter helping you to the ground and Tony coming over. "Peter…” You whine. "I don't want to die here."

“No, you-you...you’re not going to.” Peter whines. "Okay? Just, no you can't. M-me and you? Remember? You said me and you and you'd follow me anywhere?" Peter rambles and a sob leaves his lips, tears falling from his eyes and onto the ground in a waterfall.

“I love you.” You cough but before Peter could respond, your eyes went cold and you turned to ash right his hands.

Peter let out a cry as you vanished and just blew away. His heart beat inside his chest like a stampede of elephants running for their lives. His stomach turned and he swore he was going to throw up. His hands were shaking so hard he couldn't grasp anything at all, barely even see his individual fingers. You were your own hero but he was supposed to protect you. He had to. You were his and now...now youre just gone. He was supposed to make sure you got home safe. You were both supposed to get home safe. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.

Tony pulled Peter into him as Peter sobbed and it felt a bit awkward at first but as Peter’s cries quieted, it started to become anxiety ridden. He shouldn’t be quiet, not after losing you.

“Kid?” Tony says.

“Mr. Stark...I don’t feel so good.” Peter says, eyes went and cheeks red.

“It’s okay.” Tony says, holding a strong face.

“I wanna go home.” Peter starts sobbing again and latches onto Tony who helps him lay down.

“I know, I know.” Tony says, his voice cracking with the words.

“I’m scared.” Peter whines and he is.

He is so fucking scared. He’s only sixteen. He’s not supposed to die. He was on a school trip. He wasn’t supposed to go to space. May was going to be trying a new meatloaf that night and Peter was sure it wasn’t going to end well and they’d end up eating Thai just like every other time. You were supposed to be with him, holding his hand and reassuring May that it was perfectly fine. Everything was supposed to be perfectly fine. And it’s not. Nothing is fucking fine. It’s a disaster. Everything. Everyone is dying. Not even just dying but turning to ash and just disappearing. No one has time to mourn properly because with every life someone else disappears and Peter needed to get home. He’s not supposed to be one with the wind. He’s supposed to be doing his trig homework in between stops for the school trip.

“It’s okay.” Tony nods, his hands gripping Peter’s arms.

“Tony, I’m sorry.” Peter says. “Tell May I’m s-sorry.” Peter’s final words leave him before his eyes fog over and he disintegrates to ash in Tony’s hands, getting blown away in the wind. Nothing to show for his efforts in this war. No you. Nothing. Gone. Blown Away. Forever lost in the vast universe of death and destruction.


	28. Saving Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've managed to keep your powers a secret from Peter until he really need you

You'd known Peter for over a year now and the two of you had actually grown pretty close. You told each other nearly everything, nearly. You knew he was Spider-Man but that was mostly because he's not subtle, especially around his friends. But, you did know almost everything else because Peter just shared his life with you and you did him. He knew you inside out beside one major detail. He didn't know you could manipulate the weather.

It's something you've always been able to do. It wasn't always easy of course. It took you years to gain even a little bit of control and you're still struggling sometimes but it's getting better. That's part of why you've kept it a secret. Although, one major person knows. Tony Stark. Of course he knows. He caught you once, trying to figure out lightning. You were way outside of the city but of course, Tony Stark had to find out what was going on. He's since took you under his wing, said it would be called the Stark Internship.

That's how it all started and how you met Peter. He told you he believed you when you said this Stark Internship was real and you were actually interning under Tony in the lab. You were like him, an engineer, innovator. That's all it was. And you believed Peter when he said his internship was grunt work to help get into MIT.

Peter had no idea what you could do. At least, you didn't think he knew. He didn't know for sure. His spidey senses said there was more but he never pushed but now he wished he would have because now you're on a different planet with him. If you were just to work in the lab with Tony, you shouldn't be on this planet and he has no idea what you're doing here.

"And what do you do?" Quill asks, looking to you as you stood in a circle.

You looked to Peter and back to Quill. "I'll cover Peter." You offer, avoiding the question.

"That's great. Really, awesome but you know what would really be great? Knowing what you can do s-"

"They're fine." Tony cuts him off. "Watch out for Parker and help where you can." Tony nods to you.

"Got it." You nod with a smile and look to Peter. "Be careful."

"You should be careful." Peter says softly, his brows furrowed with worry.

"I got it." You smirk and look back to the group.

"Well, we should probably move. He'll be coming." Quill says and the all of you disperse to different areas in preparation.

"W-what can you do?" Peter asks as you two walk side by side.

"Guess you'll find out." You chuckle.

"Come on." He nudges you with his shoulder.

"Maybe I can't do anything and I just exist to use my own suit to save your reckless ass." You smirk and just as you do so, Thanos comes out of nowhere, closer to where Quill stood. "Showtime." You say as Peter's mask starts to cover his face.

"Be careful." Peter says and his voice is already etched in worry as he starts to move according to Quill's plan.

You stand your position and watch as Peter makes his way over ready to swing in at the right time. Everything came down to timing and it really was lucky that you ran into Quill and the other Guardians since they knew about Thanos, more than any of you did. Quill's plan was your only hope of not only defeating him but making it out with as few of casualties as possible.

Peter swings in, kicking Thanos in the face just as Thanos pushed Quill away, tossing him a few yards away and you knew Peter would need backup. You moved quickly to get closer, making sure to never let your eyes leave the sight. Just as Thanos grabbed Peter's neck and was ready to slam him into the ground, you were right behind him, your hands up and coming down in a swift movement. Lightning struck the titan and he grunted in pain, releasing Peter.

"Yeah? Some big guy picking on a spider? Come fight someone with a bit more under their sleeve!" You taunt, having more lightning strike down to Thanos as he started to come towards you.

You backed up, pulling lightning as fast as you could but it wasn't slowing him down. He was quicker than you, very quick but, he wasn't quicker than Queens' Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. Just as Thanos was about to grab you, Peter swung in front of you and grabbed you, your arms wrapping him in a quick movement.

"Gotcha." Peter says as you're moved further away from Thanos. Tony and Strange now taking over. "You okay?" Peter asks once the two of you have your feet planted.

"Fine." You shake your head. "You? He got you into the ground pretty good." Your hands are on his arms, the iron spider-suit cold beneath your touch.

"Yeah, yeah fine thanks to you. You saved me." Peter says in a quick breath. "Uh...you-you can control the weather?"

"Yeah, that's the thing I can do. More than an engineer." You smirk. "Looks like they need help, ready?" You look to Tony and Strange who were now being joined by Mantis, Quill, and Drax.

"Ready." Peter says with a nod.

You give Peter a quick hug before he could swing back into action. "I got your back. Be careful."


	29. Prank War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's been in a grumpy mood the past week so you and Peter team up to try and get him to lighten up

The air in the tower has felt stiff all week. Tony has been in a horrible mood, likely due to one of his projects not working out the exact way he wants it to. He wasn’t actually being mean or rude, but he still wasn’t pleasant to be around. He gave off a bored and annoyed vibe. He mumbled when you spoke to him, clearly still lost in thought. You didn’t like this side of Tony so, you had to find a way to pull him out of his slump.

You could just ask Pepper to help you or Rhodey or Happy or really anyone else at the tower but that’s not nearly as fun. If you were going to pull your dad out of his terrible mood, you wanted help. Help from someone your own age with the same sense of humor. A certain Spider-Boy that would be spending the weekend at the tower for his training, one Tony happened to adore nearly as much as he adored you.

“Peter!” You chimed as you saw him entering the tower.

“Uh..h-hi, y/n.” Peter’s brows furrow as you run up to him and grab his wrist.

“I need your help.”

Peter’s feet move quickly while you drag him behind you. “Slow down.” Peter whines.

You drag him into your room and crack the door, a rule Tony has. “Dad’s been in a mood lately and I need your help to get him out of it.” You give him a cheery smile.

“Me?” Peter points to himself, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Why me?”

“Because.” You grin ear to ear. “It’ll be fun.”

“H-he’s not gonna be mad, right?”

“No!” You shake your head quickly. “Okay, yeah maybe at first but then he’ll see us laughing and it’ll be okay. You in or what, Parker?”

Peter sighs, a soft smile now crossing his face “Okay.” He says. “What were you thinking?”

“Got your webshooters?” A sinister grin now splits your face as Peter nods. “It’s sticky so you’re gonna go around and just put small webs in random places he’ll for sure be touching, ya know, the back handle of the fridge and stuff.”

“What are you gonna do then?” Peter asks as he puts his bag by the end of your bed.

“I’m gonna tape pictures of Rhodey and Happy everywhere.”

“Y-you have pictures of them...just...because?”

“No!” You grimace at the thought. “I printed them out before you got here. I was gonna do this anyway.”

“This is going to put Mr. Stark in a better mood?” Peter asks again making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah and it’s good entertainment for us. It’s a Saturday afternoon. We should enjoy it.”

“Okay.” Peter says, rubbing the back of his neck with a soft laugh.

You explain where he should start putting his webs while you cover the other end of the tower in random pictures of Rhodey and Happy. Peter still thought you were completely insane and that your prank was awfully lame but that was the point. Tony would see the picture and just be confused as to why he opened the medicine cabinet to be met with a picture of Rhodey shoving cake in his mouth or when Tony would go into the lab and see a picture of Happy, looking stressed with a harsh glare. AKA the look he normally gave Tony when he was tired of his shit. Truly, it would just be something to confuse Tony and you’d get a good laugh at it when you would ask FRIDAY for the footage so you can see the look on Tony’s face.

It’s the webs that would be the best. They dissolve after a few hours and don’t leave a residue so there wouldn’t be any damage and Tony wouldn’t be too pissed. It won’t actually cling to his hand since it’s being shot directly at Tony. Plus, this way, it’ll help Peter loosen up a bit. He’s always a nervous wreck around you and he’s a rambling mess around Tony. Getting him involved a prank war just might help.

You and Peter met back up near the kitchen. He had a goofy grin but it was still a little timid while you were giddy with anticipation.

“Got everything?” You ask.

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter nods. “Think so.”

Just as Peter finished his sentence, Tony walked into the kitchen.

“C’mon.” You jerk your head and have Peter follow you. “Hey, dad.” You smile innocently as he looks at you and Peter, him trailing behind you.

“Kids.” He says with a quirked brow. “Mr. Parker, you alright?”

“Uh, y-yeah. I’m great. I’m great, Mr. Stark.” Peter gives him a toothy grin and you nearly roll your eyes at Peter’s horrid attempt at playing coy.

“You two are up to something.” Tony says, walking to the fridge.

“Nope. Nothing.” You say, smile holding steady.

“Right.” He narrows his eyes, turning back to the fridge. “Are you ready for your training in the morning, Mr. Parker?” Tony asks as he grabs the handle of the fridge, quickly pulling away with a groan. “What the hell?” He yells, you and Peter bursting out laughing. “What the hell did you two do?” Tony yells but you and Peter just keep laughing. Tony looks under the handle to see a white web. “Really?”

“S-sorry.” You gasp for air.

“It was y/n’s idea.” Peter continues to laugh, his cheeks starting to flush.

“Hey!” You lightly hit Peter.

“Sorry,” Peter’s laugh starts to subside as Tony just glares, going back to open the fridge only to be met with a picture of Rhodey making a face at the camera taped to a jug of orange juice.

“Why the hell is there a picture of Rhodey on the juice?” Tony’s voice rises in pitch with his confusion. He looks over his shoulder and you and Peter are nearly on the floor from laughing at his expression of confusion. “ **You two are actual children.** ” Tony groans, not bothering to remove the picture, instead grabbing the drink he was looking for.

“ **We just know how to have fun!** ” You retort, gasping for more air.

“Oh, and I don’t?” Tony quips, facing you and Peter.

“Nope. you’re a grumpy old man.” You mock.

Tony points his finger between you and Peter. “You’ve started a war. I’ll have you know, you’re not going to win this one.”

“I’ve a got spider on my side, what do you have?” Peter stops laughing with your words, but an uncontrollable smile still splits his face.

“I have a Rhodey.” Tony sticks his nose in the air and goes to leave but not before turning to face Peter. “You picked the wrong side, Kid.” Tony warns but the corners of his mouth are tugged into a smile.

“What’s he gonna do?” Peter whispers.

“I don’t know but I don’t think you'll be training much.” You giggle and hop onto one of the barstool chairs. “Alright, we gotta be on guard now.”

“You started a prank war.”

“ _We._ ” You correct. “You followed along so we. He’s totally gonna get Rhodey to help and I bet they’ll have like Nerf guns or something.”

“So, what should we do?” Peter questions, you holding his full attention.

“Waterguns.” You respond as if he should have known better. “And all the tech here is waterproof so it’s all good.”

“Oh, great.” Peter’s eyes widen as he nods.

“It’ll be fun.” You smile wide.

The two of you think of a plan to make sure you’re prepared for when Tony comes back to prank the two of you. You knew you’d only have a limited time to get him back. Pepper would be sure to come and break it up, afraid any of you were going to break something or get hurt. You were in a time crunch to get in as much as possible and with the help of Peter, that would be easy. But, while you were both in the kitchen, Tony and Rhodey came around the corner and sure enough, started shooting you and Peter with their Nerf guns.

Peter pulled you from the chair as you two went around the counter to hide, laughter filling the room.

“Aye, get the oil from that cabinet.” You whisper to Peter, gesturing to the cabinet he was leaning against. He does as told and you unscrew the bottle, as you crawl to the end of the counter. “Hey, wanna use your webs to distract them quick?” You keep your voice quiet and a sinister smile comes to Peter’s face.

“Yeah, for sure.” Peter says, standing abruptly, shooting his webs towards the adults, intentionally missing which gives you the opportunity to move from behind the counter and spill the oil out in the open before darting back to safety, Peter joining you.

“Thought your aim was supposed to be impeccable, Underoos.” Tony says.

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter says, smiling at you.

“We surrender!” You chime.

“So soon?” Rhodey asks. “Poor kids can’t handle their own game.” Rhodey shakes his head, a cornered smirk on his face as he looks to Tony. “No game, truce?” Rhodey continues.

“Totally!” You yell out, a finger over your lips as you look to Peter to make sure he stays quiet.

“Parker?” Tony asks, the suspicion evident in his voice.

“Truce!” Peter plays along.

Tony and Rhodey make their way over to you guys but Tony is first to slip on the oil, Rhodey catching him and helping him stand while you and Peter start laughing and make a run for it while they were busy trying to not to fall.

“You two are dead!” Tony yells but you and Peter barely hear him over your laughter.

You pull Peter into a different room of the tower, quickly and quietly shutting the door behind you. “Okay, dad won’t use FRIDAY to find us because fair game but we have to get to the other side of the tower, that’s where the summer stuff.”

“We’re really gonna attack them with water guns?” Peter asks, a brightness of excitement in his eyes.

“Hell yeah! They shot darts at us!” You burst into more laughter, Peter’s hand is quick to cover your mouth so you won’t give away your position. Your laugh stops almost immediately, a lingering smile taking it place while your heart comes to a stop.

“S-sorry.” Peter says and pulls his hand away.

You give him a bashful smile while biting your lip. “It’s okay.” Peter’s cheeks glow red. “You’re adorable.” His head picks back up with your words. “But we have a prank war to win and we only have until Pepper gets home.”

“Tell me your plan then. I’ll cover you.” Peter nods confidently.


	30. Could've Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dating a superhero is risky, not just for your life, but for your heart

Your rooftop. It's your favorite place.

Correction: Was your favorite place.

You met Peter on your rooftop. The two of you lived in the same apartment building but you'd moved in only a week before you met him. You found comfort on the roof. There was something about being able to look over that part of Queens, it was calming in a way. Just you and the city lights, sometimes you could see the stars but most nights you couldn't. It was just peaceful and you'd find yourself reading or just scrolling through social media. You loved it, really you did.

But what you didn't know was that Peter loved the roof just as much. It was a way for him to be home without actually being home and he had this thing with talking to the sky. It took only a week for the two of you to run into each other. You overheard him talking. You thought he was on the phone at first but the closer you got, the more you saw of him just laying with his hands behind his head.

You'd startled him but you were quick to laugh it off. You of all people understood and you two became friends immediately, meeting on the roof nearly every single night, some nights way later than you'd liked and it only took a few months for you to find out he was Spider-Man. He couldn't scare his aunt again and come home bloody so he asked you. You weren't too fond of the blood or him being hurt but you never questioned it, never went against helping. You just did. You met May and she worried about Peter, of course, once finding out his alter ego, you understood her worry. But, that didn't make a difference to you. He was still Peter Parker.

It wasn't long after that Peter found the small bit of courage in him to ask you out. It was a stuttered mess but you understood and he took you on a date to the movies and for a cheap dinner. It was one of the best days you'd ever had. But, through all of that, your best times were spent talking on your roof. Your roof, the roof you shared with the brown-haired boy with the red and blue secret, that's supposed to be your safe haven. 

And it's not anymore. It's a sick reminder of what could have been,

It's just you, alone. No one else. Not Peter, no one. That's how it was going to be from now on. Just you.

You paced around the roof as your hands balled up in fists, nails digging into your palms as your eyes burned. Your heart pounded against your ribs and all you could hear was the blood rushing through your ears, unsure if you were pissed off or fucking devastated.

You told him not to go. You told him it was dangerous. He promised he'd be okay. It was no big deal. If it were a big deal, Mr. Stark would be there. It wasn't supposed to be that bad and you begged him to stay for you. You begged him before Ned made a distraction and he hopped out of that damn bus window. You were supposed to be a school trip and he went to fucking space.

You let out a scream that quickly turned into a soul-crushing sob. You look at the sky and just started shouting.

"I broke my rules for you, Peter Parker! You promised it would be okay! You promised you'd be right back! You fucking promised me and now what? You're gone. You don't get to leave and not say goodbye! This isn't fair! You don't get a funeral! There's nothing left because there's fucking body! This isn't fair, Peter! I hate you so much." Your words were only coherent to you. If someone were to have overheard you, it would have just been mumbled sobs as your heart clenched and throat closed.

May broke the news to you.

You were at home, worried out of your mind. People just...disappeared. You were surrounded by a ton of people, just hiding out and waiting for the Avengers or anyone to come to the rescue but then...they just started disappearing. Turning to ash and they were just gone.

Once people were turning to ash, it was safe enough to come out of hiding but when you did, your parents and you seemed to be one of the only united families left. Kids were screaming in the streets for their parents. Parents were clutching ashes in their hands of their dead children. Whatever happened, it was unreal.

Nevertheless, you were sure Peter was okay because he's Spider-Man and Spider-Man can't die.

But he did.

May came over and her eyes were so bloodshot there wasn't a single speck of white left and you knew. You knew by the look on her face and she explained it to you the same way Tony explained it to her. They were close but not close enough. One minute he was there and the next, he was gone. May told you that Peter was brave in the time it took for him to go but you know Peter and May knows...knew Peter. Without a word, you both knew that was a lie. Peter was brave but the last thing Peter ever wanted was to die. He wanted to protect but not die. Tony was saying what he thought would help May.

It didn't.

When she left, you heard her sob outside of your door on her way back to her apartment. Your sobs followed right after. The thought of Peter just turning to ash and being lost in the wind. It wasn't supposed to go that way and now you're stuck standing on this rooftop, the spot you two shared, questioning what you're supposed to do now.

"You said," You start screaming at the sky again with a cascade of tears. "You said you saw a future with us and you made me believe it! You made me believe you, Peter Parker! You said you thought we could make it. How the hell are we supposed to make it if you're dead?" The last word leaves your mouth with a quivering lip as your knees give out and you kneel on the pavement of the roof. "You promised." Your words are whispered as you bury your head in your hands, remembering the afternoon before your school trip, the afternoon before Peter went off to fight a war he would never return home from.

* * *

_Peter's arms are wrapped around you, holding you close while your head is on his chest. Peter's hand runs through your hair as a soft smile in on your lips, happy to be with him. He's perfect in every aspect of the word even his lame jokes are perfect. But, you're both young and just because someone seems perfect for you now, doesn't mean they'll be perfect for you in a year or two or even in a few months. Yet, you found yourself hoping that he would be. And you would be for him. You could be perfect together._

_You pick your head up and look at him. His eyes are soft but holding a small touch of curiosity._

_"Do you think about us?" You ask bluntly, adjusting so your forearm is against his chest, holding yourself up._

_"L-like...what do you mean?" Peter furrows his brows as his hand is on your back, lightly rubbing circles._

_"Ya know..." You feel heat rise to your face with embarrassment, slightly regretting the conversation. "Like...if we'll make it."_

_"Of course." Peter says without any hesitation._

_"Really?" You quirk a brow._

_"Yeah, yeah." Peter nods. "I, uh, I never felt the way I do for you. We can make it."_

_You sigh softly, looking down for a few seconds. You adored him so much your heart actually aches for him but there was doubt. You hoped that your doubt was just you afraid of getting your hopes up for some inevitable high school break up you'll be telling your friend about for years. The one people always tell. The one that fucks them up. That's what you were afraid of, always._

_"Do you?" Peter asks._

_"I-I don't know..." You say, stumbling for words._

_Peter's face drops but only a little bit. "What?_   _Don't you believe in soulmates?_   _"_

_"You're so cheesy!" You giggle making Peter laugh._

_"It's okay if you don't. I get it." Peter shakes his head but his smile remains._

_"I do." You admit. "I just...ya know...we're young and I don't want to get hurt and that's kind of what tends to happen."_

_"I'd never hurt you." Peter says immediately._

_"I know you wouldn't on purpose." Your eyes widen with your words. "You're just kind of the first boy that...ya know...I've really dated."_

_"I know." Peter nods. "You, uh, you said before you don't date."_

_"Yeah, but I'm dating you because I like you a lot....like more than anyone and I don't know. It's scary." You look away, now wanting the conversation to just come to a stop._

_"I promise," Peter says. "I won't hurt you." Peter pulls you closer to him and pecks your nose._

_"Better not, Parker." You smile softly, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before resuming your position on his chest, your attention on the movie you two had picked out._

_Peter's voice comes to a soft whisper, his lips gracing the top of your head. "We'll make it. I promise."_

### Actions


	31. Life Isn't Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter sees you on a date with someone new and it leads to a confession of feelings between the both of you

Peter sat in a booth with Ned, half of his food untouched and his eyes plastered to you. You were on a date and he knew it would happen eventually. It was only a matter of time but it didn’t hurt any less. Of course it didn’t because he’s been crazy about you his entire life but never had the courage to tell you. So, yeah, it hurt like a ton of bricks crushing his chest.

“You okay, man?” Ned asks, finishing off his fries.

“Huh?” Peter says, pulling his attention away from you.

Ned turns over his shoulder to see you laughing with someone new. “You had us come here to watch over y/n, didn’t you?”

“What?” Peter’s face scrunches up. “No, no.” He shakes his head. “We just…haven’t eaten here before.” Peter lies.

“Sure, dude.” Ned nods. “They’re gonna be mad when they find out.”

Peter’s eyes narrow just enough to show his distaste with Ned’s words. “That’s why they’re not going to, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ned says. “I won’t say anything.” He shrugs. “Why didn’t you though?”

Peter looks back to you, the sound of your laugh hitting his ears from across the small diner. “I-I don’t know.” Peter stammers.

“Just look away.” Ned says calmly. “You’re not gonna make yourself feel better watching.”

“Y-yeah, yeah, yeah.” Peter says quickly. “I know…” Peter’s eyes migrate right back to you.

Ned sighs but doesn’t say anything else, knowing he wasn’t going to get Peter to stop. He was going to do what he wanted. Ned knew of Peter’s crush on you. Honestly, everyone knew. Hell, you knew but you never said anything. You never said anything for a multitude of reasons. And maybe you liked him back but Peter wasn’t the person asking you out. Peter was the one asking you to bandage him up at eleven at night so May wouldn’t completely freak out when he came home. He was the one coming to you to study with and study is what you two did, between laughter anyway. But, he never made a single move. Not one. Why wait around for someone, even your best friend, when it seems completely hopeless? Then again, Peter not making a move, wasn’t your only reason.

“Why does that guy keeping looking over here?” Your date asks, jerking their head in the direction of Peter and Ned.

You look over your shoulder and Peter immediately looks away. You suck on your teeth as your blood starts to boil. They didn’t come here. They didn’t come to this side of Queens. Hell, that’s why you picked this diner in the first place. Yet, here were your best friends. You weren’t quite sure how much Ned knew about it, but you were certain Peter was spying. If he wasn’t, he’d have come up to you and said hello. He wouldn’t have dodged your eyes when you turned around. He has no right to show up at your date and spy on you. That’s not what friends do.

You look back to your date, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger. “Peter. He’s my friend.”

Your date gives you a curious chuckle. “What? He making sure I’m not a serial killer?”

“Something like that.” You mumble.

“What?” Your date’s voice comes out surprised.

“He’s just a bit overprotective. I promise I didn’t know he was here.” You shake your head and look back to Peter who was now looking at you with guilty eyes. “I swear, it’ll never happen again.” You press, your full attention back on your date.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice you have friends that care so much about you.” They give you a charming smile before you go ahead and switch topics.

Your date proceeds and your blood starts to cool with the passing conversations, not once daring to look back at your friends, who did finally leave. Ned persuaded Peter that they’d stayed long enough and it was time to leave. With reluctance, Peter finally agreed and followed Ned out of the small diner. Ned actually had to play the Spider-Man card halfway back to Peter’s apartment, saying he needed to be out stopping thugs instead of worrying so much about you on an innocent date.

But, your date did come to an end eventually and with the thought of Peter looming in the back of your head, you had your date drop you off at Peter’s apartment rather than your own. You explained that you needed to get to talking to him, express your current state of annoyance with him. Your date was almost too okay with it. Why was someone so okay with you having friends that spy on you? Who is rightfully so okay with it? You weren’t sure and it pissed you off more and you couldn’t even figure out why.

You made your way to the seventh floor and knocked on the door to be met with the sight of May. She greeted you inside and told you Peter had just gotten home and he was in his room. You made your way to the familiar room, knocking lightly before opening the door. Peter was sitting at his desk, shirt off, gauze held between his teeth, and him cleaning a cut on his ribs.

“Really?” You raise your brows and shut the door partially as you walked over.

Peter pulls the gauze from his mouth. “W-when did you-”

“May just let me in.” You cut him off as you take the rag away from him and clean the blood yourself, the cut surely to heal by the end of the week.

“Oh…” Peter says.

“Mhm. You okay?” You ask, not too hung up on yourself to at least make sure he’s okay.

“Yeah, yeah. Fine.” Peter says, giving you a smile to which you don’t return.

“Good, now I can yell at you.” You sneer as you take the gauze from him and bandage the cut.

“Y/n, I-I just…just wanted to make sure you were okay and-”

“And what? You stayed for at least an hour. If you really wanted to make sure I was okay, why didn’t you just say you were gonna show up? Why did you follow me?” Every word that leaves your mouth is drench in anger.

Peter’s face tints red as he gets up and tosses on a shirt. “I-I don’t know.” He says quietly.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Why can’t you just tell me you like me already and stop killing yourself over it?”

Peter’s eyes bulge out of his head as his jaw drops. “I-I don’t-what makes you-I don’t like-what?” Peter stammers, his breathing picking up.

You roll your eyes and clench your jaw. “I’m not stupid! You’re not subtle. I know you like me so just tell me! Tell me already so we get this conversation out of the way so you won’t ruin any of my other dates.” You try to keep your voice to an inside level so May won’t hear you arguing but you were sure your voice was actually louder than you thought. How could it not be? You were furious.

You might be furious but you just broke Peter’s heart and you don’t even realize it, not at first.  _Ruin any of your other dates_. Dates. Plural. You planned on dating other people and Peter didn’t seem to be on that list by your wording. He wasn’t stupid either and he knew what you were saying. He knew without you having to tell him and it broke him. It’s why he didn’t tell you he liked you last year when you took him shopping for formal. Your outfit was stunning and his heart could have exploded into pink glitter but he kept his mouth into a soft smile and said you looked nice. You looked nice. He didn’t say anything when you were crying over a fight with your parents even though he wanted to explain that you were everything to him even if you felt you were nothing to everyone. He didn’t want his heart broken. But, the universe has a way of making things happen anyway.

Peter hangs his head. “Y-yeah, yeah…I do.” He says so quietly you barely hear him.

“Okay,” You take a deep breath. “Now that that’s over, why don’t you tell me why you never told me before? Why didn’t you say anything ever? Why not?” Peter’s head snaps up with your demanding questions, your arms crossed over your chest.

“Why?” Peter’s voice is no longer drenched in heartbreak. It’s his turn to be mad. “Why? Because, because I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. Because you know my secret! Because, it’s not fair!” Peter yells.

You knit your brows together and toss your arms. “What isn’t fair?” You yell, disregarding your concern for May to overhear.

“You’re my-my best friend! And you don’t like me that way which is fine. You don’t have to but it’s not fair because I like you! It’s not fair!” Peter yells back at you.

“No, no! It’s not fair to me!” You scream back. “I do like you! I’ve always liked you! But what? Am I supposed to drop everything and just be okay with this? It’s not fair that I like you! It’s not fair that I like you and your alter ego comes with it!  _That’s_  not fair!”

“I didn’t choose it, y/n!” Peter fires back. “I didn’t say I wanted these powers!”

“But you don’t do anything about them.” You scoff, bringing your voice back down.

Peter looks away from you. “Yeah, yeah bad on me for wanting to help people, right?”

“Just for you to get hurt, right? You out there fighting for people who push you into lockers? People like Flash who call you Penis Parker? People who don’t give a damn about you or even know you? Yet you can’t pay close enough attention to the people in front of your face. Go on Peter, tell me about how you don’t choose your life because you did. You made your choice when you took up Mr. Stark’s offer to go to Germany. You made your choice and you have to live with it.”

Peter looked to the floor with a clenched jaw, his fury overpowering his heartache. How could you just say that to him? It was uncalled for. You didn’t understand why he puts his life at risk every single day for strangers. He knew you didn’t get it but he didn’t grasp just how clueless you were. He didn’t know how much your morals differed. You both wanted the best for people, sure, but Peter is the hero. He’s the superhero, risking his life. Your morals were a little different in that you weren’t going to out of your way to help someone who fucked you over, who teased you, was horrible. Peter would in a heartbeat. That’s why it was never going to work and you were well aware of it.

“I-I can’t.” Peter swallows the growing lump in his throat. “I can’t not use my powers and you know that.”

“I know.” You say with a nod. “I know, so I’m asking you, move on. Move on for the two of us and let me date without you in the shadows.” Peter nods slowly, unsure he’d be able to speak without his voice cracking. “Okay.” You nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow. You’re still my best friend but, just, let it go, Pete.” You nod once more before turning towards the door, taking one last look at the curly-haired boy whose head was hung before you left.


	32. Secret Sketches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds your sketchbook only to be met with drawings of him

Every artist has a muse. For some it’s music, others it’s fictional characters, other artists even. But, for some people, their peers happen to be their muse as was the case for you. Your muse went by the name of Peter Parker.

His hair is short and brown and curly, it’s never gelled down. Instead, he keeps it rather disheveled half the time, something you found endearing. His eyes were bright, brighter than the skyline despite them being a deep brown and his jawline was sharp enough to chisel your pencil. And, he wore layered clothing, how he did that every day was beyond you seeing as it did get warm some days. But, he always had on a sweater with a flannel underneath. But, that wasn’t everything.

He held himself in a way you found interesting. He was teased and he kept to himself, watched the floor a lot when he walked down the halls but in class, he was open for discussions, answering questions. He even had a confidence to him, as if no one ever treated him poorly.  He’s captivating.

You had to keep drawing him but not just black and white pencil sketches. You drew him as if he were a character, animated at times. It didn’t really matter how you drew him because you never got bored and it always kept your mind occupied, plus, it helped he never noticed. That’s another thing you like about him. He’s too caught up in whatever is going on in his life to be paying attention to you or really anyone besides Ned. He’s focused.

A small detail you didn’t notice though is how you weren’t the only one with a fascination in the arts. Peter liked to vlog. He dabbled in photography as well but he was into film, strictly a hobby for the moment but he enjoyed it which is what brought him to your art teacher’s classroom after school during the same time you were discussing your artwork for your final.

“I’ll be with you in a minute, Mr. Parker.” Your teacher said, their attention pulled to Peter and he nodded with a timid smile. “Have you started yet at least?” Your teacher’s attention is back on you but you’re busy watching Peter walk around the classroom, picking up a sketchbook.

This wasn’t unusual. Sketchbooks in the art room were fair game. Anyone could look at them. The only rule was that unless it had your name across the front, you were not to draw or mark anything inside. But, that wasn’t your class sketchbook, it was yours. It was your personal one you still had on your desk.

“Y/n?” Your teacher grabs your attention.

“Sorry,” You shake your head quickly. “Uh, yeah, yeah of course.” You bite your lips nervously.

“You don’t sound confident.”

“No, no, I am. It’s fine. I started and everything. I just needed to make sure I had the due date right.”

“Too busy in your personal work?” You teacher teases.

“Kind of.” Your cheeks burn with touches of embarrassment, watching Peter from the corner of your eye as he flips through your sketchbook.

“Is that all?”

“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks.” You say quickly and start away from their desk. “Uh…” You approach Peter and tap his shoulder, him jumping and turning quickly.

“I-is this…is this yours?” He asks, looking to the muddied page he had open and back to you.

“Yeah…” You say quietly as you rub the back of your neck. “Can I have it back?”

“Mr. Parker?” Your teacher grabs his attention.

“Coming.” He smiles and hands you your sketchbook, his cheeks turning a vibrant red. “Uh, y-you’re really good but…those…they’re a lot of me….”

“Yeah…” You swear he could feel your embarrassment radiating from you. No one was in the classroom and no one ever actually goes through any sketchbooks. It’s a science and tech school, no one cares. But, of course, Peter does. “I’mーbye.” You rush your words, pulling the book from Peter’s hand and leaving the classroom as fast as your feet allow you.

Was it stupid to have your sketchbook at school where you could lose it and anyone could see what’s inside? Yes. But you did it anyway because you drew when you had nothing else to do. You didn’t always go straight home after school so it was easier to carry your sketchbook with you. You never thought anyone, especially your muse, would ever see what’s inside. It’s simply embarrassing to be caught drawing someone when they have no idea.

Footsteps sounded behind you in the empty hallway but you kept walking even when they sped up to a soft jog. You just wanted to get home and crawl under a rock, find your other sketchbook to bring to school the next day. Just, anything to be away from this place. But, a hand lightly touched your shoulder and you turned your head to see Peter with that timid smile you’ve drawn a thousand times.

“You…you ran out.” He shrugs.

“You had to talk to Mr. J, didn’t you?” You ask, your voice as timid as his smile.

Peter rubs the back of his neck as you two walk down the hall. “Yeah…it can wait through. Wasn’t important.” You nod in response but choose not to say anything, the air falling silent as Peter opens the door for you. “Why do you draw me?” His question is hesitant as he puts his hands in his front pockets.

“I don’t know.” You mumble, your eyes on your shoes, watching the pavement beneath them. “Just do, I guess. You have good bone structure, good practice.” You answer half honestly.

“Oh…” He says as if to be disappointed. “Can I keep one?” He asks bluntly.

Your head snaps up and to the side to look at him but his eyes are in front of him, his cheeks back to that vibrant red. “W-why?”

Peter shrugs. “I liked them, I don’t know.” He chuckles softly.

“If you want…sure.” You hand over your sketchbook. He already saw everything so why not just let him pick one?

“I don’t mind.” Peter says softly. “That you draw me…I mean. It, uh, it’s kind of cool.”

“And totally embarrassing.” You admit.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. I vlog sometimes…and people look at me weird all the time because I’m filming them.” Peter gives you a nervous laugh, flipping through pages, careful not to touch them too much or too harshly. “It’s okay.”

“This is different though.” You roll your eyes. “I actually know you.”

“I don’t mind.” Peter repeats as he hands your sketchbook back. “Is, uh, this one okay?”

You smile at the drawing. It’s one from your chemistry class. Peter was lost in some other word, paying no attention to your teacher and you couldn’t help but draw it but you exaggerated the doe-eyed expression and added a thought bubble of a galaxy above him. He happened to be wearing a NASA sweater that day. It was done in color and it was one of your favorites but you let him have it anyway.

“Yeah, yeah.” You tear it out along the perferation.

“Thank you.” Peter looks at it again, smiling softly. “H-hey, I, uh, I wanted to do a video for something, that’s why I was in Mr. J’s class in the first place and to talk about some photography stuff. Oh, that’s a thing I’m also doing…but only sometimes ya know? Like since I have the camera, why not?” Peter starts rambling quickly, his eyes not able to stay on one spot and his hand gesturing with his words. “Would it be okay if…if you drew and maybe I can like film it or something? Only if you’re okay with it and everything. If not, I totally-”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” You cut him off and beam up at him. “It sounds fun. But, I’m not gonna draw you again.”

“Really?” Peter takes in a breath of relief. “Awesome,” Peter says but quickly catches himself. “That you’ll do it not not draw me…you still can if you want or not. It’s up to you.”

“I’ll draw Spider-Man or something.” You joke.

“That works.” Peter bites his lip, suppressing the proud smile. “Well, I-I gotta head home but…do, do you wanna put your number in?” Peter asks shyly, pulling out his phone.

You take the cracked phone, quirking a brow but ignoring the damage and type in your number. “There ya go.” You smile, handing it back.

“Cool, I’ll text you later.” Peter smiles bright before heading off in the opposite direction.


	33. Validate Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is trying to recover from the events of the war

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Summer Stained by Broadside

ᶜᵃᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ˡᶤᶠᵉ

Peter was first evaporated from the plane of existence. Just ash in Tony's hands after pleading for his life. In the final moments, Peter was only scared, terrified, barely even sad. He was far too young to die and the fact he'd be turning into ash just made it worse. He thought of May for a second, thinking that he'd just be gone and she wouldn't even have a body to bury, nothing left of him besides his room he was supposed to clean the night before.

And he thought of you. He thought of you on the bus, telling him to be careful before helping Ned cause a distraction. Peter knew you'd be heartbroken and a mess, completely destroyed because he wasn't careful enough.

And he thought of Ned who would later blame himself for starting the distraction, for being so happy to help Peter. Ned would have guilt for the rest of his life and after that he just saw Tony and Peter's last thought was how he let him down. He let Tony down as he turned to ash.

But he came back. He did. Tony and Steve and Bruce, the other Avengers and a few others teamed up and were able to reverse time and save everyone that was wiped out by Thanos. But, with that came the deaths of those heroes. The brave heroes who sacrificed their lives for all the innocent.

They were able to defeat Thanos first, luckily, but their fate was sealed. With that meant, yes Peter came back and it was all very odd and uncomfortable and terrifying, barely relieving for the first few minutes, but he had to witness his saviors die. He witnessed Tony die and Quill had to hold him back with Strange, watching as the life being sucked from Tony. Peter's body was weak but his screams could tear heartstrings. He died in Tony's arms and then Tony died in front of him, to help save his life. It's a sight Peter can never unsee.

ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶰʸʷᵃʸˑ ᴵ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶤᵍʰᵗˢ ᵒᶰ

Peter's bedroom door flung open as May ran inside, the same ear-piercing scream that left Peter that fateful day now filling his room. May pulled him into a hug, rushing to sit behind him, trying her hardest to calm him down. She ran a hand through his hair and held him as tight as she could as he flailed.

"Peter! It's a dream! It's okay!" May tried her hardest to keep her voice from wavering, her heart breaking with every passing second. "It's okay." She says, quieter this time with a cracked voice.

Peter's screams finally stop and he stops flailing but his arms and legs stay completely tense. His heart thuds in his ears while his eyes swell with tears. Everything hurts. And everything feels so damn empty and he can't quite figure out which nightmare is worse because they're all horrible. The one where he sees Tony die, where it's exaggerated and Tony just shakes his head at Peter as if it's all his fault. Or maybe it's the one where Peter disappears to ash again after coming home, the one where he just freezes and his hands start to go as May cries, trying to keep him on his feet. They're both horrible.

"I-I...I'm s-sorry, May." Peter sniffles, shaking his head."I...di-didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay, it's okay, Peter."May coos and refuses to loosen her grip around her nephew.

Maybe it was that she knew Peter was so far from okay the last thing he needed was for her to let go. Maybe it was that Peter's hand held her wrist so tight she was sure to have a bruise within the next few hours. Or maybe it was her constant fear that the worst wasn't quite over. That maybe the universe wasn't quite done and taking away the heroes wasn't enough. That it would be back to take Peter away again. It did once, why not just rip him from her grip once more? Maybe it's all three.

"You-you can go back to sleep. I'm okay." Peter whispers, looking back to May, using his last remaining strength to hold back his tears.

She shakes her head. "No, you're not." She says honestly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Peter shakes his head quickly and a few tears slip away. "No...no, no, no, no." Peter says.

May's chin wrinkles as she tries to hold back her own tears. "You have to talk about it."

"No, it's okay. I'm okay, I promise. It's just..just a nightmare." Peter looks away and wiggles away from her grasp. "Please." Peter pleads.

May nods and gets up. She's learned in the few months she's had him back not to push too much, especially after a nightmare. Peter was never an angry person. It's just not who he is. He gets angry like any normal person but the kid holds it in. He burns it off being Spider-Man. He vents to Ned but he never, ever takes it out anyone. He never used to, anyway. But now, he'll lash out anyone who tries to help him. Who tries to even understand what's going on. He can't talk. He can't eat. He can't sleep. It's too fucking much. And May hates upsetting him because he might disappear again.

"M-may?" Peter says before May leaves the room. "C-can the lights...can they..." Peter looks away as he tucks himself back into bed and May simply nods, flipping the light on and leaving his door open. Just like every night before that. Routine.

ᴵ'ᵐ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵈᵍᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵍʳᶤᵖ

Peter's hood covered his ruffled curls and concealed his profile. Light rain decorated parts of his hoodie a darker shade of blue. His short nails dug into his skin as his fist closed around the stem of red and yellow flowers. Pink roses, lilies, and white daisies laid in front of his feet from other visitors. His vision blurred as tears fell from his cheeks, blending in with the rain with his hung head. The lettering of the tombstone can no longer be read with Peter's swollen eyes.

"Peter?" Your voice hits Peter and pulls him back to reality. "Pete? Come on. You okay?" You walk up to him and rest a soft hand on his shoulder but he jerks away quickly.

It's something he does now. He jerks away when you touch him. It's not you, really. It's not and you know that. It doesn't make it hurt any less but you know that. It's like, if someone touches him who isn't May, he feels like he's just...going to vanish again. Like he'll crumble to nothing. Everything will be for nothing. Peter is so scared of everything and he won't tell you about any of it. If he talks, it makes it real. Realer than it already is. And he can't let you be scared like he is.

"S-sorry." Peter croaks, glancing to you and right back to the grave etched with 'Anthony Edward Stark'.

"It's okay." You say softly, putting your hands in your pockets. "May called. She said you'd be here. You still can't sleep?"

Peter swallowed a hard lump, his hand coming up to wipe his nose before shaking his head. "I, uh, I don't wanna talk about it." His words almost blend in with the hard pour of rain.

"I know." You bite your lip and look at the tombstone and back to Peter.

He's so different now which you understand. Well, you understand as much as you can. You didn't disappear. Ned didn't disappear. Your parents didn't disappear. You were lucky. Peter wasn't. And even when he was lucky to come back, this happened. You understood as much as you could because when Tony came back and he broke the new to May. Your phone rang with May's number and you felt bile rise and your heart plummet, your gut telling you. And then she broke the news to you and she was sobbing so fucking hard you could barely understand her and she tried to stay together but she couldn't because her only family was ripped from her. And you sobbed with her because the person you love, the one you trusted more than anything was gone and you helped. So, you tried.

But that didn't ease your stomach or your heart with the sight of Peter. He's here, alive and breathing. That's what you tell yourself. You repeat it like a damn mantra because god, if you stop he may disappear again. But, you look at him and he's not the Peter you knew. His eyes are hollow and distant. There are permanent frown lines that surround his mouth while worry lines are always plastered between his brows and across his forehead. He's paler and you swear he's losing weight. He says he's eating but it doesn't look like it. Bags are dark beneath his eyes despite him telling you he sleeps. Peter is losing it.

"Why don't we get some food, huh?" You offer and stick out your hand, something Peter occasionally will take. If he can see you offering to touch him, he doesn't always jerk away and if he does, he falls back into you.

"I'm not hungry." Peter mumbles and squats to rest his flowers on the grass that had grown over the plot.

"Alright," You nod. "We should get out of the rain. You're gonna get sick." Peter's head stays hung and his shoulders shrug. "It's okay." You lick your lips and suddenly Peter's head snaps up, giving you a clearer view of his bloodshot eyes.

"It's okay?" Peter croaks. "None of this is okay! None of it! They're all dead, y/n! I died! I died! And then....and then I came back but that meant all of these other people had to die! I had to watch Mr. Stark die! He died because of me! None of this is okay!" Peter steps closer to you and he's yelling in your face with tears slowly falling and the rain is picking up and you're just nodding because he's right. "I can't sleep! I can't eat! I can't do anything anymore because everything is fucking horrible!" Peter takes a sharp breath. " _It hurts!_ "

The last scream ripped through you like a tidal wave, echoing through your bones. It's so cracked and broken and you can feel his pain with it. Peter's voice is like shattered glass covering the floor after a break in. It's sharp and scattered and holding an unknown story. Unknown because the only one who was there was him, the intruder. It's just him and he's just broken.  _Damaged._

You hesitate as Peter stares at you and despite the close proximity, the screaming you just endured, you're not scared of him like maybe you would be. You're not scared and he's not angry. It's just sadness. Sorrow as his lip quivers and he tries to hold back his tears by holding his breath.

Empathy.

You hold out your arms and pull Peter into you, not releasing him from the hug, no matter how much he tries to jerk away. If he really wanted to, he could break your grip but he doesn't. This is the first time you've hugged him since his return. He didn't hug you back though and he's moved away every time you've tried to hug him since. Now, now you can feel his spine and his ribs even through the hoodie. When was the last time he ate a proper meal?

A few seconds pass and his body is shaking and his sobs overpower the rain that was now a downpour.

"You're right, it's not okay." The words leave your mouth as Peter's arms wrap around you for the first time. "It's not okay." You repeat as Peter's knees give out and you're both on the wet grass, still not daring to remove your arms from his torso. "It will be though. I got you."

ᴵᶠ ᴵ ˢˡᶤᵖ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵒˢᵉ ᵐʸ ᶠᵃᶤᵗʰ ᶤᶰ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ

Since that day, you've seen Peter nearly every day. You thought, maybe, maybe he was getting better. They say recovery is a long road but this was....this was too long it seemed. But, then, Ned called you and said he wanted a turn. He wanted another turn to try and talk to Peter.

Ned had a hard time because he blamed himself for it. For everything. Blamed himself for Peter's death and now blaming himself for Peter's PTSD. It's not his fault, but that doesn't help. But, he's ready to try and help his friend. Ned's the guy in the chair. Peter's right-hand man and Peter needs him. Peter needs him because he's drowning. You and May can't keep Peter afloat alone.

"Hey, man." Ned says, the normally happy grin across his face as he enters Peter's room.

"Hey." Peter says, his hand scrolling through Netflix on his phone.

"Come on. I brought a new Death Star. I need your help."

"I'm good." Peter says plainly as Ned takes his seat on the floor.

"Dude, come on." Ned urges, taking off his backpack. "May and y/n say you don't leave your bed, like, ever." Ned neglects to mention that you and May did say he leaves his bed to go to Tony's grave. Daily.

"I said no." Peter repeats and his jaw clenches.

"I'm not gonna let you lay in bed all day. You're my best friend."

"Yeah, and you caused a distraction and now we're here." Peter retorts, not even looking to Ned.

An instant lump forms in Ned's throat.

_He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it._

Ned repeats to himself, over and over again. He had to because he can't keep blaming himself and he knows this isn't Peter. This is grief.  _It's not Peter._

"No one asked you to jump out of that window." Ned stands up and looks over to Peter. "I didn't ask you to." Peter glances to him and he bites the inside of his cheek. "You asked me to make a distraction and I did and y/n helped and then you died. You don't get to blame all of this on us. You jumped out of that window, dude. No one asked you to do that. Get up." Ned missed his best friend and he's not going to walk on eggshells. You and May can but Ned can't.  _It hurts._

Peter stood from his bed, tossing his phone across the room, not a care given on if he's broken the screen again. "No one?" Peter comes face to face with Ned but Ned doesn't move. His heart is broken for his friend. He can take what Peter throws if he needs to throw anything. "I can't just-" Peter stops for a few seconds. "Ben said I need to help people if I have the ability to! You know that! He said to!"

"He didn't mean stowaway on an alien ship!" Ned counters.

"I was trying to help! You know that! It's not my fault you made a distraction! You decided to help! If you didn't want me to go, you shouldn't have done it but you did! You did! Don't tell me who I get to blame for what happened! You don't even know what happened." Peter's arm flails out with his words, showing his rushed anger.

"Because you don't talk about it, man." Ned's voice is level, almost sighed. "You don't talk about it so how are any of us supposed to help you?"

"I don't need your damn help!" Peter screams and it's the same soul tearing scream everyone is almost used to hearing but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

"Yeah, yeah you do." Ned nods. "Now, sit the hell down and help me." Ned moves a little bit away from Peter and takes his seat on the floor, going back to taking out the lego pieces. "This isn't' your fault. It's not mine, or y/n's, or May's. It's not. But if you want to blame us, we'll let you, dude. But you gotta try. So, come on."

Peter's face is red and his fists are balled so hard, his nails are nearly drawing blood and his chest is heaving, but he does as Ned says. He moves around him and takes a set on the opposite side of him, helping sort the pieces.

Once the pieces are sorted, Peter's face is back to an almost ill pale and his breathing is back to normal.

"I'm sorry." Peter says.

"I know." Ned nods. "I know. Me, too."

"I-, uh, I, you don't deserve-"

"Peter," Ned cuts him off, looking up to him and taking extra notice in Peter's tired eyes. "You'll be okay."

The boys sat in silence for the next few hours. Peter shed a few tears at first, the pressure of actually doing something, doing something with his best friend who he knew he had hurt. He knew he'd hurt with his words and his death and the deed he asked him to do on the bus. But Ned didn't falter. He just went on about whatever he was talking about. He told stories of what happened in school, something Peter hasn't thought about since his death. Ned talked about you and how you're really doing, not the facade you put up around Peter.

Ned didn't do it to be mean. He did it because he needs to understand he's not the only one losing hope, the only one slipping. And it seemed to chisel at part of Peter's cinderblock weights. The cement that was holding him down, keeping him from the surface. Hearing Ned explain it's not just Peter struggling. It's him and May and you. It's everyone but then hearing that you're all holding on. You're slipping but holding on. It's not just Peter and deep down he knew that. It was just hard to see from the bottom. Maybe, just maybe though, after hearing Ned talk, after Ned got Peter to smile, albeit a cracked smile, for the first time in months, maybe Peter wasn't drowning as much as he thought he was.

ᵛᵃˡᶤᵈᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᶤ'ˡˡ ᵍᶤᵛᵉ ᶤᶰ

Another three months. That marks month nine since Peter's death and six months since Tony's. Since the other heroes. And finally, maybe, Peter is getting better. Maybe, just...just a little. Ned yelling at him for probably the first time in their friendship and Peter taking his anger out on him, Ned being so okay with it, it pulled Peter up from somewhere dark and twisty and terrifying. It pulled him up, just enough to escape the seaweed tugging at his ankles. Now, it's you, Ned, and May to finish being the lifesavers, the floats to bring him completely back to surface.

"How're you doing today, Peter?" You ask, noticing an empty dinner plate on Peter's desk.

"Alright, I guess." He says quietly as he's seated at his desk, tinkering with something you can't make out from your seat on his bed.

Tinkering. You can almost smile at him while you watch. His tongue is barely sticking out between his lips and his brows are furrowed in concentration, not pain. There's this adorable side of him you nearly lost hope of seeing showing in front of you. He can tinker with things again.

"You look better." You nod with honestly.

The words stick to Peter like honey. No one has said that to him, not even May. He turns to you, raised brows on display.

"I-I do?"

"Yeah, you do." You nod again. "You could still use some vitamin D and some more food and some more sleep but..." You pause, looking him over and he does look better. Something. He just looks better. "You look like you're doing okay for the first time."

Peter can feel yet another lump forming but there's a soft smile threatening to tug at his lips. "I, uh, I feel a little better." He glances behind him to the plate and then back to you. "I...I did...really eat. May made some mashed potatoes and chicken." Peter looks to his hands. "It, uh, it wasn't as much as before but...I did eat, really." His shoulders shrug and he gestures with his hand, always a sign he was being honest when talking about anything that left him vulnerable. 

You give him a proud smile. "Good, good. That's great, Pete."

You get up from your seat and move over to him. You slowly extend your hand to cup his face, something he's getting better with. He still jerks away sometimes but he falls back into your touch. Always. Your thumb presses soft lines along his cheekbone and you see his eyes gloss over.

"You know, I love you, right?" You ask, your head tilted.

"W-why?" Peter takes your hand moves it to his hand, his fingers playing with yours as his eyes watch the movement.

"Because," There's a sad smile on your face as you start to talk. "You're Peter and you're strong and you're smart and you're funny and you're kind. I love you because you're you."

"It-" Peter's voice cracks and it's like another shard of glass punctures your heart. " _It hurts._ "

"I know, Pete." You press a soft kiss to the top of his head and his hands release yours, his arms coming to wrap around you.

He never does this. Peter used to all the time. He's a hugger and a cuddler and actually pretty clingy when it comes to being around you but he never hugs you first anymore. Never. But, his head is pressed against your abdomen and his arms are holding you so tight, you won't be able to get out of his grip if you wanted to. Of course you don't want to. Your hand runs through his dark curls as his sniffling start to fill the room. Your eyes shut for a few seconds, consoling yourself, careful not to cry with him. No matter how many times he breaks in front of you, you can't help but nearly break with him. You just want him okay again.

"I-I'm s-so sorry." Peter whimpers.

"Peter, what for?" You look down, stopping your movements.

Peter's tear-stained cheeks show as he looks up to you. "F-for not...not being here and crying and you deserve-"

"Stop." You cut him off and your tone is sharp. "Don't' you do do that. You're going through some heavy shit. You gotta cry and scream and yell, do it. It's good for you. You can't focus on us? So fucking what? You're here.  **You. Are. Here.**  I don't care. I care about you getting better. I love you and that means thick and thin, good or bad."

"I, just, I haven't been..." Peter sighs and his grip loosens around you. "Haven't been, me."

"I think you have every right not to be you." You say with honesty. "Because Peter," You take in a deep breath, trying to form words. "I don't think I could do what you're doing if I were you."

Peter shakes his head. "Uh, c-can I...can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

Peter hangs his head as you watch him carefully, hoping he does tell you no matter what it is because at this point, him saying anything at all, is better than nothing. Even if it kills you.

"I...I don't know-I don't know how to do this." Peter looks up to you through his lashes. "Spider-Man,I mean." He shakes his head and looks back down. This is the first time he's brought up his alter ego since returning. It catches you off guard at first but you recover quickly.

"When you're ready." You say simply and pull his chin to look at you. "I know you, Peter Parker, and it might take a long time but you can be Spider-Man when you're ready."

"What if I'm not? What if I'm...I'm never...ready?" Peter avoids your eyes his grip completely loosens and his hands fall back into his lap.

"You're still Peter Parker. And you're still incredible. And I still love you. And you're still you. But, I know, one day, you'll be ready and I'll be here to reassure you and stand by you every second and I know you worry but May will, too. And Ned. But, Pete, you gotta not focus on that, alright?" Peter nods, understanding your words. "Get better first, then focus on Spider-Man. You gotta sleep, really sleep and you gotta eat regularly. It's okay if it takes time."

Peter remains silent but that's good because his eyes are understanding and there's no anger in his face or remorse or guilt. It's contentment and it's a relief. There's a light. He can see that light and it's because he has three lifesavers pulling him to the surface, slow and steady.

Peter gives you a soft nod, one of his curls slightly bouncing against his forehead as he stands up. He makes his way to his bed, the bed that's seen so many scenes of his nightmares and night terrors, May having to shush him only to get elbowed in the nose a few times. The bad moments seem to outweigh the bad but then you join him. You join without asking and he flinches but you keep a distance and show your hand, offering it to him.

He shakes his head and takes in a shaky breath, lifting his arm and offering for you to curl into his side. A shocked expression crosses your face but you smile and find yourself in the place you used to call home. Peter's arm wraps around your shoulder while the other wraps around your waist and he takes a few deep breaths, trying not to lose it again. You're real. In his arms and he's real and in yours. It's all real. And you can breathe and he can exhale.

"Thank you." He says quietly, sniffling just once.

 Peter presses his forehead into the crook of your neck as you kiss the top of his head. "Not going anywhere."


	34. Graphite Stains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a rough battle with Queens’s newest villain, Peter asks you to come over

It was a long and grueling battle with the villain that was terrorizing Queens over the past few months but finally, Peter managed to take them down. It's a relief, truly. Peter did like the adrenaline of taking down bigger villains but they're the dangerous ones so he was more than happy to go back to helping old people find their way and helping kids find their lost dogs. Peter was ready to relax and let himself just breathe for a few minutes.

Peter climbed through his window and jumped to the floor with a soft groan. With a wince, he took his mask off. His face throbbed with his head and his bones ached with every step he took towards his mirror. Peter grimaced when he got a look at the bruising and cuts on his face. There were three cuts, all still bleeding. One on his cheek, one of his forehead, and one going diagonally across his nose. His left eye was nearly swollen shut with shades of black and purple and blue coloring it.

Peter runs a hand through his hair and pulls out his phone, his fingers skimming over this contacts until he finds your name. The phone rings while he limps out of his suit.

"Hey, Pete." You chime.

"Hey." His voice is soft and you know.

"Need me to come over?" The rawness of his voice told you all you needed to know.

"Please." The word barely falls from his mouth before you hear a thud followed by a soft 'ow'.

"Am I staying the night?" You question, getting up from your bed and already heading for your backpack. It's one you keep stored in your closet, change of clothes and anything you might need on the go for instances like these.

"Can you?"

"May okay with it?"

There's static on the line from Peter tossing a shirt over his head before you hear him scoff. "Yeah, yeah, she said you can stay whenever."

"Be there soon." You smiled and hung up.

Your parents really didn't mind you staying at Peter's as long as it wasn't a school night. They trusted you were in good hands and you always were. And May never cared as long as you Peter abided by her rules, which you always did. Doors open and one of you takes the couch while the other sleeps in Peter's room. Sometimes though, if it's a bad night for Peter, she lets you both crash on the couch but that's mostly because you both just pass out not five minutes after sitting down.

You got to Peter's within fifteen minutes and May answered the door to allow you inside, directing you to Peter's room but only after handing you an ice pack to bring him. You knocked softly on the door and opened it quietly, Peter lying back on his bed with a pair of earbuds in. You walked over to him and scrunch your face with sympathetic pain at the sight of his injuries. His eyes opened slowly as he sensed you were near.

"Are you okay?" You ask as he plucks his earbuds from his ears.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's fine." Peter sits up and nods, making more room for you.

"You don't look fine." You squint your eyes but allow a smirk to dance onto your face.

"I-I am." Peter reassures as his brown eyes soften, well, the one you can actually see anyway.

"I've got some sketching I was in the middle of." You state and hand him the ice pack.

"Yeah?" Peter asks, placing the ice pack to his eye, minding the stitched cuts.

"Mhm." You nod and give him a soft smile. You pull out your sketchbook from your bag as well as your pencil case.

"Can I watch?" Peter's voice is soft and almost hesitant.

"Of course."

You move to sit against Peter's wall, bending your knees to hold your sketchbook up. Peter lays his head on your chest once you're done getting situated, your arm falls over his shoulders. A comforting sigh falls from Peter's lips as his body relaxes into yours. You kiss the top of his head before you flip the page to the most recent piece that's not quite done. You place your pencil against the page and get to work, allowing the graphite to stain your hands and getting lost with the soft breaths of Peter.

The two of you stay like that for hours. Every time he has a bad night or a bad day, he finds comfort in watching you draw. It doesn't matter what you're drawing as long as he lays like this, with you in the comfort of his room with the breeze of the summer coming through his window. The first time it happened, he was beat up pretty up and was way too upset so you allowed him to lay on your chest while you finished up your assignment for your drawing class. When you finished, a few hours later, Peter told you how nice it was. Now it's just a routine.

As you were nearly done, you ran a hand through Peter's hair and he nuzzled his face against your chest, groaning. You giggled, the rumble of your chest sending electricity and butterflies through Peter. But, neither of you said a word, you kept drawing and Peter kept his eyes on your sketch, his eyes growing tired with every passing second.

By the time you finished, Peter was softly snoring on your chest. You closed your sketchbook with a satisfied sigh before carefully moving Peter off of you. He groaned but never fully woke up. You could swear that despite his heightened senses, the boy could sleep through anything. Your lips tug into a smile at the sight of the beat up boy. He was still effortlessly beautiful and peaceful when he slept. You pull up one of the blankets from the end of Peter's bed and cover him, making sure he doesn't get cold. You press a soft kiss to his cheek before leaving him to sleep.


	35. I Was Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depression sucks especially when you’re person doesn’t fully grasp what goes on in your head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by I Was Here by Beyonce

****

Peter, he is an amazing boyfriend. Sure, he's a bit flakey and a little unfocused and is usually injured but he's a good boyfriend. The best. He's everything you could ever ask for and you're everything he's ever wanted and could need. But, you had a secret, the first few months of dating him.

Depression. It's not something people go around bragging about having and you've accepted it but Peter is always so happy and bright-eyed, it devastated you that you'd eventually have to tell him. You'd have to tell him about the devil in the shadows of your head screaming at you, a sinister white smile on display against its pitch black body. The words spoken over and over again, telling you you're worthless and Peter doesn't care. No one really cares. You're annoying. Horrible. A bother to everyone. The person on the train thinks you smell and they'd rather you get away from them. The woman in the supermarket hates the way you look.

Depression, he twists everything around to make you believe that you don't deserve anything. No one would miss you if you just up and disappeared. You're not worth anyone's time. It's dark and twisty and it's crippling because he's more than just words. Depression sucks your energy like a damn leech. Everything hurts but everything feels numb and you're angry but you're sad and you feel everything and nothing and all you want to do is fucking sleep but fuck, god forbid that fucking happen. Yeah, sometimes you get to sleep but other times depression wants to hold hands with insomnia and work together to make your life a bigger pit of hell than it already it is.

And normally you can hide this. You're so fucking accustomed to hiding your depression and your insomnia and your exhaustion that it's second nature. Fake smiles, excuses, everything. They roll from your tongue and not a single person questions it because why would they? As kids everyone is taught that when someone asks how you are, you respond with something along the lines of 'good' because it's considered rude or "scary" for a real response People do  _not_  ask because they care, they ask because it's polite. This is mostly in regards to strangers, some do care, of course, but the main people who really care, that's the people around you.

They care and they notice when the bad days come and cover up all those good days. Cover up the sunshine and sunrises. It's just, it's hard to ask about. It's hard to talk about. It's all fucking hard when the days are bad. But, somehow, out of everyone you know, Peter, of all people, finds it in him, to ask.

Spidey senses, they're useful, really they are. They're useful while fighting villains but they're also useful when it comes to anything off. Like your mood switch. Plus, his heightened senses could hear it in your laugh and taste the dishonesty from your words. Peter knew about your depression before you told him. You never had to. And it was a weight lifted from your shoulders.

He explained right then and there that he was Spider-Man and that's how he knew. He explained all of his powers and how he picked up on the differences in things no one else could possibly notice. But there was more. He asked you genuine questions on how you deal with and how he could help you. And he did this while expressing that he understands he can't just cure it but he'll be there when it's bad and he'll be there when it's good. Because he loves you.

And he has stuck by you, for three years now. You're even living together and he is more than positive you're his forever. He's never been so sure of anything in his entire life and you're so sure of it too. So damn sure of him. Even on your dark days, you're sure of it. Mostly.

Lately though, after a few months of happy days and genuine smiles, it's bad again. It's so fucking bad and you don't know how to describe it. Peter had tried everything and nothing is working. He's tried your favorite movies, your favorite shows. He once ditched being Spider-Man for the night (he asked Tony if he could take over) just so he could spend the extra time with you. Peter got your favorite food. He made you go out with your friends. You both did laundry together and cleaned the house. Nothing. It helped momentarily but it wasn't pulling you from your episode. And it was killing Peter. He didn't understand and all he wanted to do was understand so he can help.

He didn't understand what was going through your head, not until now.

Peter had climbed through the bedroom window only to be met with your voice echoing from the bathroom. He always liked when you sang in the shower but there was something different this time. He could feel the pain your voice.

"I was here. I lived, I loved. I was here. I did, I've done everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be. I will leave my mark so everyone will know. I was here."

Peter's feet were frozen as he gripped the doorframe to brace himself as he just listened. Every vibration of emotional agony vibrated through his bones as he closed his eyes. A lump formed in his throat when your voice cracked, the weight of emotional exhaustion seeping through. His breath hitched and tears stung the back of his eyes.

"I just want them to know that I gave my all, did my best, brought someone some happiness, left this world a little better just because. I was here."

And it clicks. Peter gets it. He'll never fully understand your depression because it's different for everyone but the second those lyrics hit his ears, goosebumps formed across every inch of his skin and a tear slipped from his eye while his grip tightened. He gets it. And he needs you to know that you're not so alone and you're more than just here.

When you get out of the shower, you're met with Peter sitting on the end of the bed fiddling with his fingers.

"Hey, Pete." You say as you walk towards him. "You okay?"

His head comes up to meet your stare and his eyes are bloodshot but he doesn't seem injured. Your heart sunk. Why's he been crying?

Without a word, Peter is on his feet and his arms are wrapped completely around you, his scent engulfing you. You're stiff against him for the few seconds and then your arms come to wrap around him and your body relaxes, your head pressing against his chest.

"I get it." He whispers.

"What?" You pull away, brows drawn together in confusion.

"I-I-I get it. Not, really but I do. I heard you." Peter stammers. "I-all I want," Peter licks his lips as he releases you from a hug. "Is to...make a mark and just, you know? I need to do these things and show that things aren't always so bad and I need people to see that. That everything isn't for nothing. And I get it. And y/n, you're-you're  _here._ "

Your chin quivers with Peter's words as tears threaten to slip. "I don't completely understand what happens in your head sometimes but I get this feeling and you gotta listen to me, alright? You, you're the reason I can get up and be Spider-Man sometimes, when it gets hard because I gotta keep you safe. And you-you deal with your head always telling you a bunch of bullshit all the time and you put on a smile and-and you get up anyway. You're important, and I love you." Peter's eyes dart across your face.

"Thanks, Peter." You shake your head.

"No, no." Peter shakes his head. "I mean it. You're stronger than you think and you impact people's lives by just  _breathing_. And you gotta know that, okay?"

"Okay." You give him faint smile but the corners of your eyes wrinkle showing the smile was genuine.

"And I'm gonna remind you every single day." Peter rests his forehead against yours. "Because you gotta remember." You nod against him, unable to form words, because his words, they're enough. Not enough to magically cure your depression, but enough to lift the weight a little.


	36. Ultimatums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is your best friend, not Spider-Man

Peter hissed as you dabbed the now blood red rag against his face. His hands gripped the back of your thighs with every movement you made, as if holding onto you was going to lessen the sting. You shook your head and let out an exasperated sigh as you moved away, grabbing some butterfly stitches from the counter.

"Are you okay?" Peter mumbles sensing something was off with your silence.

"Are you?" You challenge as you turn back to him.

His brows furrow in confusion. "Yeah, but are you?" His eyes watch you carefully, gauging your response.

"Fine." Your voice is flat as you go to apply the stitches but Peter swats your hand away.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, let me finish so you get to your  **own**  dorm for once." You roll your eyes and start applying the stitches to his cut.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You can hear the touch of heartbreak in his voice.

You've been friends with Peter for years. You both know each other like the back of your hands and he could tell if something was wrong even before his senses were heightened. He knows you and you know him. But, that's not all. You always offered him a place. It didn't matter if it was on your home with your parents or your dorm room. Peter always had a place to stay but now you're suddenly kicking him out. And you've been pretty quiet since he showed up. Usually, you're triple checking if he's okay and asking all sorts of questions but tonight, you're just quiet after the initial 'you okay?'.

"I mean, go to your own dorm for once, Peter. You have one, use it."

"D-did I do something?" The innocence in his voice is almost overwhelming.

"I can't do this anymore." You shake your head as you finish the stitches.

"Do what?" Peter asks as you go to wash your hands.

"This!" You raise your voice but bring it back down to not wake anyone in the next room. "I can't keep stitching you up. I can't keep asking if you're okay. I can't keep seeing you hurt." You spin around quickly and cross your arms, hands still wet.

"I-I didn't-I can clean up myself." Peter's stutter gets worse and your heart jumps to your throat knowing it's only getting worse because he's nervous, upset, confused.

You take a deep breath, trying to cool your blood, trying to stand your ground. "Yeah, and what kind of friend would that make me? A horrible one."

"I'm sorry but I don't know what you want me to do." Peter's voice is almost a whine as he stands from the toilet seat with a shrug.

"I can't be friends with you anymore, Peter, not-not if Spider-Man comes with it."

The air fills with silence and Peter can't believe what you're saying. You were the first person he told. He got his powers right before Ben died and he blamed himself for Ben's death. Had he just been there, he could have saved him. So, he told you. He told you because you're his best friend and he knew you wouldn't tell anyone or judge him and he was a wreck after Ben died. He needed an outlet. You were so accepting and you stood by him every step of the way and covered up his random disappearances and injuries. Hell, you encouraged Spider-Man at first and thought it was the coolest thing ever but now it's been four years and to Peter, nothing has changed. But to you, it has.

It has changed because you adore him. You adore him and just the year before he nearly died from fighting a villain. Peter actually needed a week to recover because his injuries were so bad. You witnessed him go through PTSD in _high school_. You saw the toll it was taking on him and your heart can't stand to watch him suffer anymore. You know full and well that he won't pick you over Spider-Man. Peter would never do that because he has a moral obligation to help those in need. That means Spider-Man. It's breaking his heart but it's breaking yours to stay.

"You're my best friend, y/n." Peter's brows are drawn together and his big brown eyes are looking for the right answer with no hope.

"Yeah, and you're mine. But, Peter, I can't be friends with you if Spider-Man comes with it. I just...I can't."

"W-what if I cut back and-"

"Me or Spider-Man." It doesn't come out as a question and you hold a firm voice because Peter hates ultimatums and you know that. He'll always pick the latter, Spider-Man or not.

"You're really making me choose?" You can see a piece of his heart snap in the way his eyes gloss over with the question.

"Yeah, yeah I am. Me or Spider-Man."

"I-I can't...you know I can't give up Spider-Man. You know I can't." Peter rolls his shoulders and hangs his head.

"I know." You nod and fight back your own tears. "I know." You whisper as if setting it in stone.

"That's it?" Peter's voice cracks, as he looks back to you, his eyes starting to tint red with a few tears.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." And you are. He can taste the sincerity but it doesn't ease the aching in his chest, the aching that's overpowering the stinging of the cut on his face or the aching in his bruises bones. Nothing could ever come close to the ache you're causing his chest. "Goodnight. Peter." You stay strong and move from the bathroom, Peter on your heels.

"What am I gonna do without you?" He asks and it takes every bit of your strength not to cave and take it all back.

"You'll figure it out. Always do." You state as Peter tugs his mask over his face, standing by your desk that faces the window.

"J-just promise you'll call or something...if you change," Peter stops mid-sentence to shake his head and gain control of his breaking voice. "If you change your mind."

"Yeah, okay." You agree and in seconds, Peter is exiting your window.


	37. Copacetic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic attacks are terrible but at least you have one friend who’s always willing to help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Untitled by Knuckle Puck

The party is loud and crowded. Hues of blues and purples seemed to cascade across the walls that might as well be vibrating from the constant thumping of the bass. If the music keeps up the loud volume, it’s only a matter of time before there’s a noise complaint but the happy-go-lucky young adults don’t have a care in the world. They’re too busy dancing, if you could even call it that, playing beer pong and other drinking games, and conversating over when they’re leaving for the upcoming semester.

But, then there’s you.

Your chest is tight and your limbs are shaking, palms clammy. Every muscle of your body tensed and your breathing is shallow, caught in your throat as you tried to focus on one thing but nothing was working. The music is too loud but you could hear every conversation happening around you. Your eyes darted around to every person, every flashing light of the party lights on the ceiling, and anything that might be moving. You could hear your heart in your ears, just thumping with everything else. It’s like everything is closing in around you while your head spins and your vision pulsates with your heartbeat and the throbbing music. You just wanted everything to stop. Stop for a second so you could just get a fresh breath in but the longer you stood, hoping for it the pass, the worse it got.

_Run._

Fight or flight. It’s your flight or fight hormone kicking in, trying to signal that you’re not safe, even though you are. Your brain and adrenal gland just get signals confused and happens for seemingly no reason and you try to go with the fight side. Fight out the aching of your tensed muscles and the nausea overtaking your stomach. Every time you try the fight option but sometimes it’s not enough and it loses. Sometimes you have to run, have to hide from whatever triggered the flight or fight response. But you want to fight this out. You want to stick it out because it’s the last party of the summer before you go to your first year of college. You want to stick it out so bad and your bones ache and mouth runs dry.

_Run._

You set your drink on the counter, almost spilling the contents from the shakiness of your hand. You dart out of the kitchen and right out of the front door, not bothering to let your friends know you were leaving or that you’d be back, nothing. You didn’t text them, you just let your feet guide you and before you know it, you’re running down the street. Your chest gets tighter with every step but you can’t stop your feet from moving, you just need to get away from the party.

It’s strange, to literally be running from a panic attack but your bones are physically aching for you to just get home. Be safe. Get safe. Safe place and that’s your bedroom. It’s horrible, for your self-esteem, because you know you’re going to sprint all the way home and then feel fine not five minutes after shutting your bedroom door. That’s what happens when you have to leave and you always feel terrible for not just sucking it up. But, this was bad. It was bad because you physically had to run. Not just mentally and it was taking a harsh toll on your lungs. They burned and burned like you had been a heavy chain smoker for twenty years. Everything burned and ached as your feet lead you to an alley.

You leaned your back against the wall, the cold brick sticking to your shirt as bent your hands to your knees. Your chest heaved with every breath and your nausea persisted as your head spun like you’d just gotten off a tilt-a-whirl. You tried to take deep breaths but they always came in and out shallow and strangled as your mind drifted to what could come lurking down the alley.

It’s night and anyone can be out and you’re all alone. You’re incapable of fighting anyone off and you’re having a panic attack in the middle of an alley. It feels like you’re breathing through a straw, a thin one like one from a juice pouch. You just need one good breath but that didn’t come when you heard a thump beside you.

You jumped and yelled, looking in the direction of the dark figure coming towards you. Your breathing completely stopped as you were slowly trying to back away but your legs felt like jelly from the adrenaline and running. Now what?

“Y/n? It’s me.” Peter’s familiar voice echoed through the narrow alleyway. The only relief that came was that you know him, you know your best friend but that didn’t ease the panic attack. “A-are you okay?” Peter took a few more steps forward, taking off his Spider-Man mask as he came into the smallest form of light. “I, uh, saw you leave the party.”

“I can’t breathe.” You cried out in a quick, exasperated breath.

Peter’s eyes widened and grew sad within seconds. He knew of your panic attacks. They happened fairly often and with his heightened senses, he knew without you even telling him. It actually made it easier to talk about. You couldn’t lie to him about it and he always had you talk.

“Have you tried breathing?” Peter says before catching himself. “I-I mean the breathing techniques or grounding?”

You nod your head quickly as tears started to burn the back of your eyes. Grounding almost always worked but it just wasn’t working tonight. Nothing was working. That’s the problem with panic disorders.

There is no reason for them. Yes, in the moment of a panic attack, you can pick out what the trigger is. Tonight, it was the people and loud music but that’s not always the case. It varies and it’s not always rational. Panic attacks are basically anxiety attacks on steroids. At least anxiety attacks calm down within fifteen minutes, panic attacks can go on for up to three days.

“Uh,” Peter stutters, trying to think of something else. “Okay, here.” Peter closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into the shadows in case someone walked by, this way Peter wouldn’t have to put his mask back on and you’d be able to actually see his face.

His arms wrapped around you and you’ve never felt more claustrophobic. You squirmed in Peter’s arms, begging him to let you free but he just used his strength to keep you as close as possible, giving you the biggest bear hug he could without physically hurting you.

Peter’s hugs normally felt perfectly safe and soft but not in the middle of a panic attack. A strict instruction you had was not to touch you. You explained it in the terms of his senses. In the middle of a panic attack, everything is dialed to eleven, like him just not the superhuman eleven.  Touching causes more panic and he knows that but now he’s hugging you. He’s not supposed to hug you.

“Just, trust me, okay? Please?” Peter says urgently, squeezing just a little harder and you can hear his breathing in your ear, his chest pulsing against yours.

You swear you're going to pass out from the overwhelming anxiety flowing through your veins but then, it’s like something clicks. Your arms start to relax first, not fully but enough. Your mouth starts salivating normally again and your heart seems to be slowing while your body catches up. Your legs are weak and already sore while the spinning of your head starts to come to a slow and peaceful stop. Everything isn’t so loud anymore and you can breathe. Your head presses against Peter’s shoulder, your neck finally relaxing as you take deep breaths.

“Are, uh, are you okay, now?” Peter asks, hearing your heart rate come down to a steady rhythm.

“I don’t know.” You whisper, not moving your head from his shoulder but wiggling your arms from between you two to grab the sides of his suit, signaling for him to stay close, scared the panic attack was lurking in the depths of your brain and waiting to make another appearance.

“Okay.” He whispers, his arms not loosening up.

“Aren’t you worried someone will see you?” You manage to whisper against him, finding it in yourself to ask a question.

You feel him shake his head. “There’s isn’t a lot of foot traffic here.” Peter explains.

“You saw me leave the party?” You ask, now knowing if you keep talking, your panic attack will be put fully to rest for the rest of the night.

“Oh….yeah….kinda. Ya know, I was in the area and wanted to see if you were having fun and if everything was going well. I just wanted to check in but then I saw you run out without your other friends and I wasn’t following you.” Peter rambles. “I mean, I-I was but only because you...I don’t know.”

“Spidey senses.” The smallest laugh comes from the back of your throat.

“Dunno.” Peter mumbles. “Guess so, maybe.”

“Thanks, Peter.” You take in a deep breath, one that completely fills your lungs and gives you complete relief.

Peter loosens his grip but doesn’t completely let go. “Don’t thank me, you’re my friend.” Peter says.

“Why’d you hug me? I told you not to.” You keep your voice level, allowing the confusion to take over your voice.

You weren’t mad, just confused. Confused because Peter never does anything that would make you uncomfortable. He respects you but this went against that. But, on the other hand, it helped. It calmed your panic attack quicker than just locking yourself away in your room would have. So, you’re not even close to being mad.

“Um, ye-yeah, about that…” Peter starts as he starts pulling away.  “I did some research.” He shrugs casually, rubbing the back of his neck. “Different ways to help people who are having a panic attack.”

“And hugging?” You question.

“Not exactly, kind of.” Peter says. “There’s been studies on how bear hugs, ones that really constrict someone, can calm down panic and anxiety attacks. It helps to release certain chemicals that counter the flight or fight.”

“Why’d you do that?” You almost chuckle at the thought of Peter going out of his way for something like this but it’s sweet. He’s always sweet, that’s why you started to fall for him forever ago. The boy is too kind-hearted for his own good.

“I don’t like seeing you in pain.” Peter says honestly, his cheeks turning a crimson red so bright you can see it almost clearly. “I...you’re my best friend...but….I….” Peter shrugs his shoulders, dodging eye contact. “ _Like_ ….you…”

Your brows furrow as you watch Peter kick a small pebble, his fingers fiddling with the mask in his hands. It was a weird time to announce that he liked you and you can’t help but think he did it now, of all times, to show his vulnerability that way you wouldn’t feel so alone. Telling people how he feels is something that always causes Peter anxiety so telling you, after your panic attack, was him putting himself on almost the same level as you. The same level of anxiousness and vulnerability.

A timid smile spreads across your lips as you close the short distance between you and Peter, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you. Do you think you could finish walking me home and maybe…” You trail off, noticing Peter’s eyes the size of saucers staring back at you. “Hang out when you’re done with your patrol…?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Peter says maybe a little too quickly. “I’d, yeah, that’d be great.” Peter smiles, bright and wide.

“Cool.” You bite your lip shyly.

“Cool.” Peter nods before putting his mask back on and walking you home.


	38. Tied Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday nights are usually uneventful but on this particular night, it was a little different

Your night was uneventful. It was a normal Saturday night where you’d just bum around and catch up on some shows. But, usually on those Saturday nights, you’d receive a phone call from your boyfriend, Peter, and he’d end up stopping by even if it was late and even if you’d already fallen asleep. You lived for those.

They’re nice and warm, comforting and safe. Mostly comforting but not because you were with him but because he was there. If he wasn’t with you, that meant he was out looking for trouble to stop and that meant possibly risking his life. With him laying on your chest, you knew he was safe. So, when you received a phone call tonight, you weren’t too surprised. But, his voice sounded off. 

“Pete? Are you okay?” You question, pausing your show.

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” Peter says, his breathing a little labored. “I am…uh, outside your building.”

“So…come in?”

“I…can’t.” Peter says and your heart just plummets into your stomach. He always calls and then knocks on your window to come in. There’s never a question on if you’ll let him in or if he can stay because you always welcome him with open arms and he always stays as long as he can.

“Why not?”

“Can you come out here, please?” Peter asks, voice now hesitant.

“Okay?” You start to get up, phone still pressed to your ear. “Where outside are you?”

“Your fire escape.” Peter states.

You make your way to your window instead of to your door, your brows knitted in confusion. This was unlike Peter. He was always chipper, a bit twitchy but chipper even after he got the hell beat out of him. But, now his voice sounds nervous and maybe even a little embarrassed. It was almost the same tone when he started rambling an apology for kissing you the first time, saying he should have asked first. So, your confusion made perfect sense but what you didn’t expect was what you saw when you looked outside of your window.

No Peter.

You stepped through your window and out onto the fire escape, looking for the bright red and blue suit you’ve become familiar with up close but nothing. Nothing until you hear movement from beneath you.

“Peter?”

“Y/n.” Peter whines.

You look down between the slats of the fire escape platform and see Peter, tangled in his own webbing. You stuff your phone in your hoodie pocket and quickly start for the ladder to lower yourself to the platform below you. When you reached him, his mask was still on but the eyes on the mask were wide. His web somehow managed to get tangled between the platforms and Peter is just hanging there, half upside down. A laugh escapes your mouth before your hand covers your lips.

Peter groans, pulling against his webbing. “It’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry but it kind of it.” You snicker, trying to keep from laughing too hard.

“It’s not!”

“How did you manage this anyway?”

“I-I don’t know! Mr. Stark had an upgrade with new webshooter combinations and, uh, I-I’m not used to them yet.” Peter admits, his body going limp in his webbing.

“You’re a dork, ya know?” You chuckle.

“Please, help me.” Peter whines once more, pulling on the webs.

“And how do you suggest I do that?” You cross your arms, shifting your weight to one foot.

“There’s a keychain in my backpack, it’s a knife.” Peter suggests.

“And your backpack is where?” A smirk pulls at your lips as Peter groans in frustration, both of you knowing his backpack isn’t accessible given his strange position.

“On my back.”

“Which is tangled in the webbing you want me to cut you down from.” You point your finger out and the eyes of the mask narrow slightly.

“Stop enjoying this, please.” Peter asks.

You shake your head. “You’re Spider-Man tangled in his own webbing. That’s hilariously ironic.”

Peter rolls his eyes behind his mask, body going limp again. “Just find something to cut me down.”

“Doesn’t your webbing dissolve in like two hours? I could just sit here and talk your ear off while we wait.” You joke.

“Y/n, please. This is really uncomfortable.” Peter’s voice is pleading and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

You sigh and move closer to him. “Fine, but I get a kiss first.”

A chuckle falls from Peter’s lips as you tug the bottom of his mask up. You lean forward, tilting your head awkwardly and place a kiss to his chapped lips. Peter smiles softly against you before you pull away. With delicate fingers, you pull the mask back into position and a satisfied grin comes to your face.

“Okay wait here.” You laugh, going for the latter.

“Funny.” Peter retorts. “Hurry, please!”


	39. You're A Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider-Man can clean up the city but Peter Parker can’t pick up his clothes

Your apartment was an utter disaster. Dishes were piling up and the laundry was way overdue. You were onto your last pair of fresh pants, leaving you with one of Peter’s only shirts he still had clean. Most of his clothes were piling over the laundry basket with yours. With your workload with finals and crazy class schedules, you haven’t had much time to clean your shared apartment with Peter. With Peter balancing his classes and Spider-Man, he sure wasn’t much help in keeping the place clean. And honestly, it’s the weekend and you have one last assignment to finish but you can’t stand it anymore.

Peter walked through the door and you ambushed him. He couldn’t even get the door closed before you started laying in on him for not picking up after himself, for not helping. Part of your outburst was definitely the stress of your exams because you knew Peter would slack sometimes with his superhero duties. But sometimes, everything just boils over and he’s there for you take out your anger on.

“Y/n…” Peter tries but you keep going.

“Seriously? You can pick up your clothes! God, just toss them in the damn wash and I’ll finish it! Soak your bowl! Something!” Your scream at him and Peter nods, letting you rant and rave.

He’s a bit confused as to why you’re screaming instead of just asking him but then he notices your textbooks spread out on the table and the dishes neatly stacked by the sink, dirty, but stacked. You have on one of his shirts with mismatched pajama pants. You’re so pissed off at him and while he has heightened hearing, he’s not hearing a damn word that leaves your mouth because even in this state, his blood is cool. It’s calm and he’s in love with you.

“You just gonna stand there, Peter? Say something!” Your eyes widen, full of frustrated annoyance.

“Marry me.” Peter says softly and there’s a timid smile on his face.

You shake your head, nostrils flaring. Was he out of his mind? Does he really think your anger and stress is funny? Sure, Peter had bad timing for jokes but this was just low.

“Hey,” You start. “You won an award.”

Peter’s brows furrow as he watches you cross your arms over your chest. “Oh…?”

“Yeah, for being the most annoying person on the planet.”

Peter rolls his eyes as you turn to walk away from him but you don’t get far. Peter grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. “I’m sorry,” He says softly. “I’ll put the clothes in the wash and I’ll fold ‘em but, I’m serious.” Peter takes in a deep breath and his face starts to tint red. “Marry me.”

“Really?” You quirk a brow, confusion radiating from your pores.

“Yeah.” Peter nods and the timid smile is back on his face, hope in his eyes.

“Like..really? Why…?”

“Because, I, uh,” Peter rubs the back of his neck with one hand. “I love you, even when you’re yelling at me and you make me better and…you make me want to be better and I love you. I said that already, I know but it’s true and I want to tell you every single day and I want you to know that and I want the world to know that.” Peter chuckles softly, more nerves than anything. “I’d scream it from the rooftops and plaster it across the city.”

Every ounce of you that was mad at him over dishes and clothes just melted away. It’s petty and stupid and yeah, he should help clean up but there’s no reason to scream at him, not when he’s this sweet. When he loves you in spite your random spout of anger. Your heart races and your veins cool with love and adornment for the brown-eyed, messy haired dork in front of you. You pull him by the collar of his shirt and place a kiss to his lips, his hands going to your hips and pulling away slowly.

“So…uh,” Peter licks his lip, his eyes glancing to yours and then to your eyes. “Is that…a yes?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll marry you because I love you, even when you’re a mess.” The sarcasm drips from your mouth before Peter’s mouth collides into yours once more.


	40. Webs Are Lame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re set to start training with Peter

Tony Stark. He’s a mastermind to say the least but he’s someone who can see potential in people even when no one else does. Especially when it comes to kids. That’s where you come in. There were videos of you all over YouTube using wind, water, earth, even fire to save lives and help those who couldn’t help themselves. It wasn’t long before you were visited by the billionaire innovator.

Tony has since taken you under his wing, helping you learn and train. This is actually great for you because you get to actually work alongside him,  _sometimes_ , anyway. Plus, with him helping you, you get all new tech that helps protect you and keep you safe. It’s truly a giant winning situation. Until now, anyway.

Tony has the bright idea to bring you and Peter into the training room to meet. You’re both the same age and young, inexperienced. Tony’s idea is that the two of you could work together and learn from each other while also learning together. A sound plan really, until you meet him.

You introduce yourselves while Tony excuses himself so you two can get acquainted but warns the both of you not to break anything or kill each other.

“So, uh, w-what can you do?” Peter asks nervously, looking to his feet and back to you.

“I can control the elements.” You state simply.

Peter’s brows furrow as he shakes his head. He bites his lip and doesn’t say a word. By the silence and the expression on his face, it’s more than obvious he’s biting back whatever he really wants to say.

“What?” You quirk a brow.

“N-nothing, really.” Peter shrugs as his cheeks turn a little red.

“I know you want to say something. What is it?” You push as you cross your arms over your chest.

“It’s just…” Peter starts. “That’s kind of lame.”

You scoff and you roll your eyes, appalled by his words. No one has ever thought your powers were lame, not that many people knew but those who did thought it was cool. You could freeze anything you wanted and set things on fire. You could use wind to create tornadoes and pin people to walls. You can create barricades with the earth and use boulders to trap criminals. Controlling the elements is totally badass. What can Peter do? Stick to walls?

“My powers are lame?” You glare the curly haired boy. “Webs are lame!”

“No, they’re not!” Peter defends. “I created my own web formula and Mr. Stark seems impressed!” Peter starts boasting about his creation making you just roll your eyes again and shift your weight to one leg.

“Dude, you stick to walls. That’s your power. You created a web fluid. Anyone with a genius brain could do that. But your actual power is that you can stick to walls.” Venom is trenched in every word, not taking kindly to Peter’s attitude.

“No!” Peter scrunches his nose in annoyance. “I can stop a bus,  **with my bare hands!** ” He tosses his arms out, the anger of you minimalizing his powers getting to him. “Everything is dialed to eleven so I can actually, like, I dunno, feel when something is coming and it’s bad and I can hear things other people I can’t. Oh! And I can heal faster than normal people! That’s cool!”

“Oooohhh, big deal.” You scoff, putting your nose the air. “I can keep people away from me so I won’t need any of that.”

Peter throws his head back with flaring nostrils and boiling blood. He thought being able to train alongside someone the same age as him would be fun but he thought they’d have better powers or something. There was always something about the ability to control elements that bored him. Sure, he was a fan of shows that showed the powers but in real life? It didn’t seem like it’d be all that special.

“Fine,” Peter looks back to you. “Why don’t you prove it?”

In a quick movement, you sent a gust of air his way and pushed him against a wall, pulling the air from his lungs and holding him to the wall for a solid thirty seconds before letting him free. A confident smile crosses your lips as you put your hands behind your back, swaying from the heel of your foot to your toes, proud of your action. Peter slid down the wall, holding his chest and catching his breath.

Peter looks at you, flabbergasted and impressed. “Okay,” Peter takes a deep breath. “I take it back. That was really cool.” Peter sends you a timid smile. “C-can you show me more? But..not  _on_  me.”

You send him a bright smile. “Of course but you gotta show me just how strong you are and how your webshooters work.”

“Deal.” Peter says quickly, getting back to his feet.


	41. This Is Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter explains happiness

Life has never been too kind to you. Every time something good happens, something that actually fills your chest with warmth, there’s something horrible that follows right after. It’s as if the universe is permanently against you. So, you can’t help but question why you’re always smiling and giggling when you’re around a certain boy by the name of Peter Parker. 

You’d met in one of your classes and quickly became friends when you were partnered for a project. And within a few months, Peter was stuttering and stammering to ask you to make things official. Of course, you agreed. And things, while still some were bad, seemed to pick up. It was like you were having more good moments than bad. As if life had finally turned around. 

Your bones didn’t hurt and your chest didn’t ache. And you can’t quite put your thumb on the word that describes the blissfulness that’s with you and Peter on his rooftop. And maybe that’s because you’re afraid of that tricky word and how the feeling could be ripped from you at any time.

You’re overlooking the city and it’s breathtaking even though you’ve seen the sight a thousand times since you started hanging out with Peter. There’s just something about the landscape that makes you feel, literally, on top of the world. It’s silent besides a quiet ballad Peter has playing on his phone and the few cars down below. A smile is tugging at your lips as Peter’s hand holds yours and your head is rested on his shoulder. This is something and you need to know.

“Hey, Pete?” You ask, lifting your head up and looking at him. 

“Hm?” He hums, looking back to you. 

“What’s happiness?” You ask. 

The question seems a bit odd at first. Happiness is something simple, really, something everyone experiences and Peter isn’t sure how to respond. He could give you a definition but by the look of curiosity and hope you had in your eyes, he didn’t think you were really looking for a literal definition. Peter knows you want a detailed answer of what it really feels like to be happy.

He knows your life hasn’t been fantastic and he’s certain that’s what’s sparking the question. It does hurt his heart a bit, for you to need to ask and make sure that the feeling in your chest really was happiness and not something in disguise. But, he’s more than willing to explain it.

“Uh,” Peter stutters for a second. “It’s that warm feeling, ya know? In your chest?” Peter pauses as his cheeks tint a soft shade of pink. “Like when I brought you up here for the first time and you couldn’t stop smiling. Or you remember that time I told you about? Where, uh, May taught me how to dance?” You nod in response, remember the story. “It’s the good moments that stick out. And you don’t feel anything else besides just warmth.” Peter thinks a little longer while you hold onto every word. “Uh…l-ike when, I kissed you for the first time.” 

“Yeah,” A smile splits your entire face as you squeeze Peter’s hand. He first kissed you in this exact spot and neither of you could stop smiling or giggling for an hour. “We sent most of the night up here making out and laughing.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter nods quickly. “Laughing, y-yeah we were making out but we were laughing, too. So, it’s like that, ya know? Just laughter and smiling without force, warmth.” 

Your smile almost turns bittersweet with the end of Peter’s words. This is the moment, the feeling you were waiting for.

“I think I’m finally happy.” You sigh in contentment before your stare moves back to the city.


	42. Stained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freak accidents are just that, random, unknown, and sudden

Thumping. 

Just thumping in Peter’s ears, his heart racing as fast as it can without breaking his ribcage. The paramedics sound like they’re trying to talk to him while he’s underwater. They need to know what happened but Peter can’t bring himself to tell them. He can’t tell them anything because there’s so much blood. It’s over his hands and covering his hoodie and shirt and jeans and shoes. And there’s just so much blood. He remembers in his biology class, learning that there’s about five liters of blood in the human body but he didn’t really comprehend how much blood that was. That’s a lot of blood and there’s still more coming.

_How does a body have so much blood?_

Peter was allowed in the ambulance since he was the only one there with you. He needed a ride and he couldn’t leave you. How was he supposed to do? This could have been prevented this and he needed to never leave your side now.

“Y-you can’t let them die.” Peter whispers, holding your blood-soaked hand in his as the paramedics held the bag mask to your face, pumping air every second.

“We’re going to try everything we can.” The paramedic reassures but Peter barely hears him.

Peter just softly repeats the phrase, pleading them to help you and not to let you die. You can’t die and they’re trying. They  _are_  really trying their best efforts to keep you hanging on. There’s just so much blood and it just keeps coming.

Once at the hospital, Peter is forced to let go of your hand and he tries following the paramedics and doctors that met at the emergency room doors to a room but he was quickly stopped by a nurse. He ran right into her, paying no attention to anything or anyone besides you.

“I’m sorry but you can’t go in there.” The nurse says as Peter tries to move past her. She grabs his arms softly to stop him. “You need to be out. here and let them work. They’re going to try everything they can.”

“I-I need…I need to be in there.” Peter says with a quivering jaw. “Th-they can’t. I-I tried and the-their dad and…this can’t be…” Peter’s sentences are broken and stammered as his thoughts jumble in his head.

He should have been able to stop this. He’s Spider-Man for fuck’s sake, this is what he does. He saves people. He prevents bad things from happening. What’s the point if he can’t keep the people he loves safe? And from a car no less. You two were just walking back to Peter’s apartment and then a car just came out of nowhere. Peter can sense when there’s forms of dangers, it’s one of the good things about being Spider-Man but somehow, somehow he missed this. The one fucking time you needed him, he missed it. He wasn’t fast enough and the car just hit you. One second you were walking in front of him and he was promising he was going to love you forever and the next you were being thrown over the hood of a car and onto the street.

Peter ran to you and begged for passers-by to call an ambulance, to do  _something_ ,  _anything_. He cradled you in his lap, his hand caressing your cheek, begging you to be okay. Your jeans were burned to your legs from the grill of the car and a gash split your head open, deep enough for Peter to be able to see white. Glass from the windshield penetrated your abdomen from the impact. Your eyes were closed but your chest was moving up and down. It was labored but moving and all he could do was hope to everything that you’d be okay. Help would get to you soon. That maybe you wouldn’t bleed out in his arms.

Now all Peter could do was stare into the window, watching one of the doctors start compressions. You were so frail, limp like a rag doll with every compression. It was like a scene out of a medical drama right when they’d start playing Chasing Cars or How To Save A Life. But, this wasn’t a medical drama. It was real and real doctors do extraordinary things to save patients, young patients who have barely begun their lives.

Tears trickled down Peter’s face just as the doctor stopped compressions. He looks around the room, looked at Peter, then looked up, presumably to a clock, and back around the room. Peter didn’t need to hear what anyone in that room was saying because he knew. He knew those faces. He’d seen that look before.

“No!” Peter screamed, his hand connecting with the glass of the window, your blood smearing across the glass. “No!” Peter yelled again, this time for more broken.

He watched as the doctor mouthed something and started chest compressions again, a nurse sticking something in your IV. They had to keep trying but it was only then that Peter really noticed the blood he’d smeared on the glass. It’s your blood. Just, everywhere. He looks at his other hand and he can barely even see the pigment of his own skin. His jeans are dark blue, almost black from the amount of blood and his shirt and hoodie are covered. The fabric of the white t-shirt is starting to stick to his form from being wet.

_How does the human body have so much blood?_

“Where are they?” A strong voice grabbed Peter’s attention, his tears nearly stopping at the sound. “You’re going to tell me where the hell they are or I will tear this place to the ground, do you understand? Where the hell is my child?”

Peter moves his stare from his hands and then to the voice. “M-Mr. Stark..” Peter’s voice cracks.

Peter didn’t tell them who you were or who to call and he was too in shock to do it himself but, he didn’t need to. You’re a Stark. You are _the_ Tony Stark’s child. Everyone knows who you are. The second the paramedics saw you, they were telling the doctors who you were and to get Tony Stark on the phone. But maybe it was for the best that they called instead of Peter.

Tony’s eyes hit Peter and he looks ready to break. “What happened?” Tony demands as he forgets about the nurse he was yelling at while approaching Peter.

“A-a car…I just…I tried and it just…it-” Peter’s voice breaks with a lump coming into his throat, tears spill from his eyes. “I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I tried. I tried and I wasn’t fast enough and I should have…It shouldn’t-I don’t.” Peter looks down to his hands, palms up and they’re shaking. He’s shaking and tears just spill onto the stained skin.

Tony moves to look past Peter and into the window just as they stop working. The doctor looks at the window to see a distraught Tony Stark. The Tony Stark, just staring at him with his child on the gurney. All he can do is shake his head. Peter looks back just in time to see the doctor mouth ‘time of death’.

“No!” Peter yells again and slams his fist against the glass. “No! You have to keep working!” Peter sobs with another slam against the window, the glass cracking under pressure.

Tony stares blankly, eyes wide as he questions how this could have happened and what really happened. Peter is screaming and sobbing right beside him and all he has to look at his dead child’s body. What is he supposed to do now? What are either of them supposed to do now?

“Keep going…” Peter’s voice drops with a softer hit to the glass. “They can’t be…” Peter just sobs and falls to his knees. His head buries into his blood-stained hands and he was supposed to protect you.

He swore he was going to marry you. He had just talked to Tony about it. He asked him the day before he could propose. Tony went and helped him pick out a ring and Peter was going to pop the question when you both got back to the apartment. He wanted it to be nice and intimate, just the two of you. That’s why he’d taken you out to your favorite place to eat which happened to just be a corner diner that served the best thin crust in all of New York, in your opinion. He was so ready with the ring in his drawer. How the hell could you have been ripped from him just like that? It’s just not fair.

Tony let a few tears slip before he wipes his face and knelt down in front of Peter. “I-I’m sorry…this…it’s-it’s all my fault.” Peter whimpers, blood now smeared across his face.

Tony looks at the boy that should have been becoming his son-in-law. Your blood, his child’s, blood is just everywhere and Tony can only imagine the horror Peter actually witnessed to be covered in that much blood. Tony knows first hand what it’s like to watch people die in front of him and the impact it can have but this, this is different. You were the love of Peter’s life and Peter’s forever but now, now you’re just stained blood on his clothes.

Tony takes in a deep breath and pushes the lump down. “I need you to listen, okay? It’s not your fault.” Tony’s voice falters, trying to get the words out.  _You were his world, too._

“It-it is…I’m faster than that…I could have…I should have stopped-”

“Stop.” Tony demands. “I know you tried and for that, I thank you but this isn’t your fault. Now, get up and call May. Have her come get you and take you home. You can’t be alone. I can handle this from here.”

“B-but Mr. Stark, I-”

“Go home, Mr. Parker.” Tony says as he stands back up, a few tears starting to leak from his eyes. He hasn’t called Peter ‘Mr. Parker’ in well over two years but it’s the only way he can address him right now. He has to dissociate and that’s the only way he can think of right now.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-”

“Now.” Tony says, pulling his suit jacket into place while his eyes stay on the window, your lifeless body laying the bed.

Peter stares at him for a few seconds, his heart heavy and a lump in his throat so large he can’t even breathe. He takes another look into the window, the blood shielding part of his view. He couldn’t save you and let you down. He let himself down. He let Tony down. Peter can save the entire city but he couldn’t save you, his world,  _his life_.


	43. Save Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never expected to be kidnapped by one of Spider-Man’s villains

How did you end up here? You were just walking back from class. It was a late class but you’d walked home plenty of times by yourself and nothing had ever happened before. So, why were you being held against your will by some guy with four mechanical arms?

He’d come out of nowhere really. One second you were listening to music softly, backpack slung over your shoulders, thinking if you still had leftover food and the next you knew, this strange guy was snatching you up roughly. His arms clanked as he took you, grabbing you like a ragdoll and taking you with him. You yelled and hit his metal arms but nothing worked. You saw lights come on as you passed buildings but no curtains were pulled and no one seemed to care much to look. You were just helpless against this insane man. Of all times, you were hoping one of New York’s heroes would show up.

Where was Spider-Man? He’s supposed to be helping those who need it and yet he’s nowhere. And this had to be a villain, the one you heard about on the news. You were tied down to a metal table in some building you didn’t recognize. All you could see was the dimmed basement like lab and a large circular saw hanging from a machine a few feet above you.

This wasn’t some random guy off the streets. He was on a mission and you were being pulled into it which just irked you more. Where the hell was a hero to save you? Someone has to save you. People don’t just kidnap others for no reason. And why you? Surely, there was a better option, someone more important than just you. Why did this have to happen to you?

Tears stung the back of your eyes as you pushed a lump in your throat down. You pulled at your restraints, trying desperately to get out of them before what you feared most would start taking place. But, with every tug, nothing happened. Your arms seemed to get weaker and the restraints didn’t budge.

You were just about to scream, to start begging for your life or just plain screaming and telling this guy off when you heard a crash and glass shatter. Your eyes darted to a window where a red and blue suited man was coming down to the floor.

The villain just started laughing. It was a laugh filled with satisfaction. You could just see him if you lifted your head up. He’s standing in front of the table, back to you facing the now broken window. The one and only standing just in front of him.

Spider-Man.

“Let them go.” Spider-Man’s voice rings rough and stern as slight reassures courses through your veins.

“Take the mask off.” The villain demands.

The eyes of the mask squint in your direction and then back to the man with the mechanical arms. “This doesn’t have to happen.” Spider-Man says, his voice much softer this time.

“Off.” The villain says. “Or they’re dead.”

With his words, there’s a clinking sound above you and then a hum. You look up and the saw is rotating, slowing moving down to you. You let out a scream, tears now starting to slip from your eyes. You try to pull from your restraints again, your legs and arms squirming and tugging as hard they can. Your wrists burn but that’s not stopping you.

“Please, just let them go. This doesn’t involve them.” Spider-Man pleads.

“If it’s between us, why don’t you reveal your identity?” He asks.

Spider-Man looks back to you, screaming and he can nearly taste your fear. The saw is coming down quick and he’s not sure he’ll be able to get past Doc Ock before the saw comes to you. He has to be flawless, perfect, just the right time and he’s too invested. He’s too emotionally involved to think straight. KAREN is in his ear trying to help him find the best way to shoot a web to maybe stop the saw. She’s running through webshooter combinations, the best route to take, but Spider-Man doesn’t have time to listen to her. With a sigh, he takes off the mask.

Brown, damp curls, fall onto his forehead. His skin is pale but blue and purple bruises decorate his skin with touches of red cuts. You shake your head as you see him and all he does is look at you, head slightly head in shame.

“Peter?” You question.

Your head spins as you try to process everything that’s going on. You’ve been kidnapped by one of Spider-Man’s villains. But, Spider-Man is actually Peter. And Peter is your boyfriend of two years. You’ve been kidnapped and tied down and are looking at a giant saw ready to cut you in half because of your boyfriend. Him showing up at your apartment late at night, saying he just couldn’t sleep, makes sense. The wincing, the random black eyes and cuts. Everything makes sense and you want to beat yourself up for not knowing but you want to scream at him for not just telling you. Had he told you, maybe you wouldn’t be a few feet from death.

“I-I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna get you out of here, alright?” Peter promises.

“Boyfriend has gotten you into quite the predicament, hasn’t he?” Doc Ock torments, not bothering to glance over to you.

“Peter,” You whine, your lip quivering and your vision blurring from tears streaming down the sides of your face. “Save me.” You cry out. “Peter, please!”

Peter’s heart nearly shatters with the sounds of your cries. It takes every ounce of his strength not to close his eyes to regain himself. He can’t let his eyes off Doc Ock. Doc Ock won’t hesitate to kill Peter the second he’s given the chance. But there’s bile rising in his throat and his head isn’t focused like it should be. He needs to save you.

“Happy?” Peter turns his attention to Doc Ock. “Let them go.”

A grin creeps across Doc Ock’s face as one of his metal arms slinks out on one side of Peter. He dodges it but misses the other arm that was coming from behind him. Doc Ock grabs him by the throat, choking him. Peter’s hands gripped the metal, legs dangling as Doc Ock raised him in the air. Peter’s eyes darted between the saw that was only a foot above you now and then back to Doc Ock.

He was struggling. He let his feelings for you get in the way. It distracted him. He’s too focused on you being disappointed and him desperately needing to save you. He can’t let someone else he loves and cares about die because of him. Because he wasn’t quick enough or strong enough, smart enough. But, he’s failing. That saw is getting closer and your screams are piercing his ears and he can feel your heartbeat throbbing out of your chest, drumming through his bloodstream. His heightened senses are getting the best of him as his face is turning blue, his lungs not able to get enough air. Doc Ock is smiling uncontrollably, happy to have Peter right where he wants him. Right where he’s been trying to get him for months. Peter’s going limp from lack of oxygen but he has to try to at least save you even if he can’t save himself.

Peter gathers the last bit of his strength and shoots a web to the saw. It sticks to the piece lower the saw to you and Peter yanks the web. He pulls as hard as he can and it all happens so fast. One second you’re screaming for Peter to save you and the next, the saw is yanked from above you and hits Doc Ock, Peter and him falling right to the ground.

You hear gasping but you’re paralyzed with fear. You can’t look up, unsure if the blade actually hit either of them. You can’t speak in fear of it actually being Doc Ock to get up. Even your heart seemed to silence itself, waiting to see what happens. But, then you hear it. There’s shuffling on the floor with a few thwips before you feel tugging at your restraints, undoing one of your wrists.

“I got you.” Peter says, too weak to stand up on his feet yet. “You’re safe.” Relief floods his voice as he uses the table to stand up and finish undoing your restraints. More tears fall down your face as you start to sit up. You stare at Peter for a few seconds, a million and one things running through your head but only one sticking. He’s okay. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you and his arms wrap loosely around your torso. “You’re safe now, promise.” He whispers.


	44. Radio Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been four years since you’ve seen Peter but now that you’re face to face, it’s time for answers

It’s been years. It’s been years since you’ve seen these familiar streets of Queens. You went out of state for school and haven’t looked back. You Skyped your family but chose to just stay close to school. You loved your family, they’re your family, but being on your own, there’s nothing like that. It’s empowering, especially after feeling so small in a city like Queens. But, it’s been long enough and you’ve graduated. It’s time to come home and figure out what your next step is.

It’s your first week home and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t missed your home city. The sounds are all the same, the smells, the people. Everything is just the same as when you left it. Nothing just went on pause while you were gone. You left and life here went on. Life goes on whether you’re here or not. And you realized that more than ever when you were walking towards Delmar’s and spotted a familiar brown-haired boy exiting the shop.

A white plastic bag was held in his hand and a backpack clung to his shoulders, a camera with NIKON neatly labeled across the strap dangled from his neck. He looked up and saw you walking towards him, your steps becoming slower as your pulse raced. His eyes widened and anxiety flooded him. He looks amazing, happy despite the touch of panic he’s gaining with every step you take towards him. And for these few moments it takes you to approach him, you almost forget what he did to you.

Peter swallows and debates on just rushing off. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d have rushed off without an explanation and Queens is big, he could not run into you again. But, then again, he has no idea why you’re back or how long you’re staying. And, he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t fought the urge to call you every single night since the last time you two talked just over four years ago.

“Peter?” Your voice is gentle just as he remembers it.

“Uh…h-hey, y/n.” Peter looks down to his shoes and back to you. “How’re you?”

“Good, good. You?” You ask, watching him and his nervous ticks, surprised he’s not grown out of them.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m great.” Peter nods quickly, the corners of his mouth trying to pull into a smile.

“That’s good.” You send him a soft smile.

You wish you could have stayed in the state of forgetting of his existence for a little bit. It’s been nice forgetting everything he put you through. This boy who held your heart, this boy who you swore could never hurt a fly, ripped your heart out without a second thought. Being away, it allowed you to move on and just forget that there ever was a pretty curly-haired boy named Peter Parker who liked to put together computers and dumpster dive for parts. You liked that sense of not remembering him. But, he’s in front of you and your heart aches.

“I-uh,” You go to stutter and Peter’s face contorts in guilt. “I should go.”

Peter hangs his head, fiddling with the strap of his camera. He didn’t want to break your heart. He never wanted that. You’re right about Peter, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He sets out to do the exact opposite even. But, then there’s you. While you were forgetting about him, he’s been remembering your tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes, lips quivering and questioning what his reasoning was.

“Wait.” Peter squeaks, his fingertips brushing against the exposed skin of your arm as you were going to walk past him. “Um, we should, ya know, catch up…if you want.”

_It’s been years._

“Yeah, okay.” You agree figuring nothing bad could come from this, nothing worse than what’s been done years ago.

“Really?” Peter smiles, a genuine smile but it soon falls. “I dunno if you want to but…we could just meet at the coffee shop around the block or not,” Peter rushes the last few words. “A park, wherever you want…” Peter trails off leaving it up to you to pick the place.

“Coffee shop is fine.”

“Cool,” Peter’s cheeks turn a vibrant red and you can’t help but shake your head. It seems the only thing different about him is that he just looks a little older. “I’ll see you then.”

“Peter?” You start before he walks away, his brows raising. “What time? Day?” You laugh softly, knowing Peter is just happy you agreed.

Peter winces, realizing he lacked on every detail. “I can text you?” He asks.

“Okay.” You nod, the two of you swapping phones and putting in your information.

“If-If you’re not busy tonight, maybe around eight?” Peter looks up through his lashes and looks back to your phone.

“I’ll be there.” You state, taking your phone back and giving Peter his, the screen cracked as it always was back then.

“Awesome.” Peter grins.

“Bye, Peter.” You nod, a soft smile on display before you start walking away.

You’re not quite sure why you agreed. Well, you do. It might have happened four years ago but you never got proper closure. You saw him and it was like you needed someone to slap you and remind you exactly what he did, what he said because if not, you’d fall back into old ways if he let you. No matter how much time seems to pass, you miss him like crazy. You love forgetting his existence but now that you’re aware of it, you’re gonna face him head-on. You’re gonna tell him everything you felt when he broke up with you, everything you wanted to say when you were too broken to do it. He deserves to know what he did to you.

Both unfortunately and fortunately, eight came around rather quick. You made your way to the coffee shop that you and Peter once called yours. Study sessions with books, papers, and notebooks covering two tables with highlighters and pens decorating the open pages. Studying was never supposed to be fun but you never minded when it was with Peter, not to mention, you’re pretty sure he’s part of how you ended up with decent study habits. But, that coffee shop hasn’t been yours in years so it should feel different, but it doesn’t. You walk in and Peter is seated in the seats you once claimed as yours and there’s two coffees sitting in front of him, ready for you. That’s not really what catches you off guard, not completely. He’s early. Peter’s always late.

“Hey.” You greet, taking a seat.

“H-hey.” Peter gives you a timid smile. “Got you a coffee.”

“Thanks.” You side smile, taking the warm cup into your hands.

“You still order the same thing right? If not I can always get you a new one if you want.” Peter offers quickly.

“It’s the same.” You nod, holding the side smile while you take a sip.

“Awesome.” Peter’s timid smile sends butterflies through your stomach and you want to curse yourself. “Uh, so, a-are you in school still?”

“I just graduated.” You give him a proud smile, taking a sip of your coffee. “You?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going for another few years.”

“Not surprised.” You chuckle.

“You’re not?” Peter asks, surprise evident.

You shake your head. “When you were around, you were always buried in your school stuff. You’re a genius. It’s only fair you’d be in school longer.”

Peter licks his lips, shaking his head. The first part of your sentence was an intentional jab. He could feel the venom in your words, the snark and the hurt. He wishes he could say it wasn’t like that but it was. Peter was rarely around. And as time went by, he disappeared more and more. It is his fault and he deserves the jab.

“I’m sorry.” Peter says softly.

You let out a sigh. “Okay.” You play with the sleeve of your coffee, avoiding his eyes.

“Y-you didn’t deserve that.” Peter bites the inside of his cheek.

“Nope.” You agree. “But, you basically shunned me anyway. You didn’t even have the decency to text me and tell me we were done. Radio silence was how you did it.” Years of pent-up anger and heartache spill from your lips.

“I-I-I tried to explain.” Peter starts, his head trying to come with anything to say. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Oh? You didn’t? Telling you didn’t love me after months and months and months of saying you did didn’t get the point across? And you only told me that after I confronted you. We were friends first. As a friend, you owed me more than that. Peter, you’re full of shit.” You call his bluff and his cheeks shoot red with his ears.

Peter hates thinking about it all because he hurt you. He didn’t have it in him to tell you he was Spider-Man. There were a million reasons he was afraid to tell you. He didn’t want you to leave because of it but, more than that, he didn’t want  _you to stay_  because of it. Peter knew you better than anyone so he knew you wouldn’t stay because you’d be  _dating_  Spider-Man but you’d stay out of guilt. Guilt would eat at you when he’s hurt and you wouldn’t be there. You’d feel the need to put him back together and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want you to deal with guilt. And, he didn’t want you in any danger.

The more you knew about him, the more you were with him, the riskier it got. Villains got bigger and stronger and it would only be a matter of time before one of them went after someone he loved. So, he ignored you until you confronted him just a week before graduation. He’d told he didn’t love you and it was a lie, he just didn’t know how else to get you to move on from him, to keep you safe.

You shake your head, realizing that maybe it was wrong to still be upset with him. Maybe it was time you just let it go even if he did warp how you trusted people and allowed people in. It only takes one person to change how you feel about letting people in with relationships. Peter is that person. You want to let it go because it seems petty to still be holding onto it but you also want to just scream at him because it’s his fault you couldn’t trust like you used to and he hurt you.

“Okay, sorry.” You run a hand through your hair. “You hurt me and it sucked.”

“I really didn’t want to hurt you.” Peter’s voice is weak and etched in guilt and regret.

“But you did.”

“I know.” Peter nods, his curls falling onto his forehead. “That’s…that’s why I wanted to catch up.” You raise a brow, waiting for him to continue. “Wanted to try and explain.”

“I’m listening.”

Peter looks around the coffee shop taking in the five other people sitting about the shop. “Can we go somewhere?”

“Really?” Annoyance seeps in your voice.

“I can’t tell you here.” Peter whispers.

“Sure.” You roll your eyes and stand up.

Peter follows suit, grabbing his coffee. The two of you exit the shop and start walking down the sidewalk. The air is stiff and awkward between the two of you. You want him to just rip the band-aid off. He needs to just get it over with but he seems to have not changed at all in the years you haven’t seen him which just means he’ll stall. He’ll stall on talking because his mind is always running a mile a minute, trying to form the perfect phrasing and wording.

“Okay,” Peter takes in a deep breath, looking over to you. “It’s going to sound crazy but you can’t tell anyone and I’m telling you because you deserve better than how I treated you.” Peter rambles.

“I don’t owe you anything.” You remark.

“You have to promise you won’t tell anyone.” Peter states, his voice not even pleading, just stern.

“Fine, whatever.” You nod your head.

“Back then, I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. You needed to move on from me- I needed to protect you from me.” Peter rushes his words.

“Protect me from you?” You scoff. “Yeah, alright.”

“I-uh, I am….uh, I’m Spider-Man and villains, they don’t care who they have to hurt to get to me and I was afraid that one would find out about you and come after you. I was afraid that you’d get hurt because of me. Or that you’d stay because you’d worry about me. I needed you to just….move on.” Peter’s words fall from his mouth like a rushing waterfall while you stop dead in your tracks.

“I’m sorry. What?”

Peter turns to face you. “I’m…Spider-Man?” Peter says lowly, his head slightly bowed.

Everything starts to come together like a giant puzzle. His random disappearances, him bailing on you, the bruises, his incredible strength, even him being able to just know when something was wrong. But, that all just raised more questions.

“So…your solution was to hurt me to protect me?”

Peter groans, running his hands over his face. “Okay, it was shitty. But, hurting you like that was better than watching someone kill you.”

“You should have told me.”

“I know.” Peter agrees.

“You suck.”

“I know.” Peter agrees again. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be because now what?”

“What?” Peter’s brows furrow.

“Cool, I got an explanation and everything but now what?”

“I-I don’t know.”

He’s right. He was right for not telling you. Sure, now you have closure but he’s right about you being worried. He told you he didn’t love you to protect you from things he’s facing. That just means he’s out risking his own life and you’re just supposed to be okay with that? Not worry if he’s gotten home alright? Of course you’ve been upset with him and you hate that he’s skewed your trust but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t care about him.

“Do you love me?” You ask bluntly.

Peter shrugs. “It’s been four years.”

“That’s not an answer.” You counter.

“Maybe. I think so.” Peter admits, dodging your eyes.

“Is that why you told me? Be honest, Peter.”

Peter sakes his head. “I don’t know. I know I told you because you deserved to know but I don’t know if that’s the only reason.”

“So, what do you want from me?”

“Want from you?”

“Mhm. You want something. Everyone wants something.”

“I guess….” Peter pauses for a moment. “I just miss you and wanted to talk.”

“Well, you got what you wanted.” You cross your arms and Peter nods shamefully. “But, you can keep talking if you tell me about your alter ego. I’m gonna worry about you so you might as well start talking.”

“Really?” Peter asks, brows raised in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’m curious.”

“Does, uh, does that mean we can work on the friends thing?” Peter asks. “If you want, of course. You were always a good friend before we dated and even while we were together and I regret it all so much and I just want my friend back if that’s even possible-”

“We’ll see. You start explaining and let me sleep on it.” You give him a gentle smile.

“Okay,” Peter gives you the same smile before the two of you start your walk again, deciding to make your way to Peter’s while he started his whispered explanation. “So, I got bit by this radioactive spider…”


	45. Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter just wants you to have a normal life after an accident occurs

The faucet spilled water into the porcelain sink. Blood drops dripped onto the white and washed away with the clear water. The burning of your lip made you wince and tears trickled down your cheeks. The ringing in your ears is persistent and your hands shook while you tried to focus on your breathing. Your eyes glanced to the doorknob, checking that it’s locked but it doesn’t ease the flood of anxiety coursing through you.

After being attacked, it’s hard to feel safe even when you know you should be. You were rescued and you’re home. You’re home where every door and window is locked. Just like in every horror movie about some type of home invasion, you grabbed a large knife as a weapon to be on the safe side. You don’t own a gun and you’re not strong enough to fight whoever, whatever, attacked you. Your face is proof of that. You’re taking the needed precautions now that you’re home but it’s not easing any bit of your worry.

A creaking from outside the door makes you gasp, your hand instinctively going over your mouth. Your hand slaps the bleeding gash, more tears stinging to escape. Within seconds, the knob of the bathroom door starts jiggling. With your dominant hand, you grab the knife but don’t hold it up fearing that it could just be a friend or family member checking on you by instruction. You know you’re likely to just try and stab whoever walks through if you’re holding up a knife. Terror streamed through you, hoping it wasn’t the attacker so the second the door opened and you got a glimpse of the red and blue, you let out a sob.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter rushed his words quickly, hands up as he walked towards you, the gold key to the bathroom placed under his thumb for you to see. “It’s me.” The Spider-Man suit is torn across his ribs and he doesn’t have his mask on, leaving his hair a tousled mess. “Can you give me the knife…please?” Peter asks, his voice steady and calm despite the contradicting look of fear in his eyes.

Tears stream down your face as you hand him the knife. He grips it slowly and carefully before resting it on the counter beside the sink. There’s only a beat of silence before Peter crashes into you, arms wrapping fully around you and hugging you tightly. Your head is buried into the crook of his neck, tears coating the fabric of the suit. Your body shook against Peter’s as his hand rubbed your back.

It wasn’t so much that you were crying because you were still scared but because you were relieved and confused. You’re relieved because you’re alive and barely injured and Peter’s alive and he’s not injured terribly. You’ve seen him in far worse conditions. But, you’re confused because you’ve been dating Peter for years and nothing like this has ever happened. It’s one of those things where it doesn’t happen to _you_ , it happens to other people. It’s not a real possibility until it actually happens. You’re just in shock of being attacked and by some random villain, someone that is Peter’s job to put away.

“Are you okay?” Your voice breaks as you ask the question, not pulling away from Peter.

“Y-yeah, yeah, yeah, of course.” Peter rushes his words quickly. “I’m fine, are you?” Peter pulls away, his hands brushing against your body before holding your arms.

“I’m okay.” You sniffle, eyes swollen and a vibrant red.

“You’re bleeding.’ Peter looks at you with pure devastation in his eyes. “I’ll….I’ll uh…” You can see Peter swallow a hard lump. “I’ll fix it up.” Peter nods and moves you to sit on the toilet seat.

“It’s okay, Peter…” You whisper as Peter turns to the cabinet with the first aid kit.

“No, it’s not.” Peter turns back to you quickly. “It’s not okay. You got hurt because of me.”

Your face contorts in touches of confusion and disbelief. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” Peter mumbles, grabbing the kit and turning back to you. “It’s, it’s my job to help people.” Peter shrugs, getting some gauze out of the kit. “I have to. I have to help strangers and I, you know I love it but…” He looks to you, your eyes watching his shaky movements. “I couldn’t protect you this time.” You don’t say anything, sensing Peter had more to say. “You locked yourself in here with a knife because I was busy protecting other people.” It’s almost a whine that comes from his mouth, like he’s trying not to start crying.

He doens’t say anything but there’s something in the way he’s moving that you don’t want to say anything. The air is stiff and he has more to say. That was the thing. You knew him so well that you knew whenever he needed to say something but he wasn’t quite sure how so it took him a minute. Peter, while a rambler, does try to watch his wording and he just wants to say all the right things. You got used to it, you know it and you always find it intriguing but now that it’s in a situation where you’re unsure of where the conversation was supposed to be headed, you hate it.

You hiss as Peter cleans the cut. Apologies spur from his mouth, promising he’d be as quick as possible and he was. As soon as it started, it was over. He cleaned the cut quickly and carefully, before pressing a square of gauze to the cut, holding it in place knowing the bleeding would stop soon. He’s had too many cuts like that to know how long it’ll bleed.

“I, um,” Peter’s voice sounds like shattered glass. “I need you to go stay with your parents, okay?” He looks down to you and he’s so serious, it scares you.

“Why?” You ask, the word barely coherent with Peter pressing against your mouth.

He shakes his head, the rims of his eyes starting to turn pink while his eyes gloss over. “ _I have to protect you._ ” It’s a plea. “I have to protect the things I love the most, that’s you and May. I can’t…” He pauses for a beat. “May won’t leave but I need you to. It’s too dangerous here, please.”

“No.” You state, pushing his hand away. “I’m not leaving-”

“Stop.” Peter cuts you off, jaw clenching. “I can’t protect you here.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, emphasizing the need in his sentence.

“You don’t have to.” You shake your head, your voice a soft but sincere tone.

“I do.” He says. “I-I-I don’t know what I’d do if something happened. Please, do this.”

“For how long?” You ask, your tone changing and losing the softness. Peter looks away, removing his hands from your shoulders, telling you everything you needed to know. “Go to my parents’ place until I find one of my own, without you, right? Because this is you breaking up with me?” Your bottom lip quivers as the last sentence falls from your mouth.

Peter hangs his head. “I have to protect you.” You barely him with the quietness of his voice. “You make me want things I can’t have.” Peter says, looking back to you, a few tears starting fall down his cheeks. “Y-you want those same things and I-I can’t give them to you and I’m sorry.”

“Like what, Peter?” You stand up, emotions flooding through you. Anger, annoyance, sadness, heartbreak.

“Normal.” Peter says, one word enough to shatter every hope and dream the both of you have because he’s not wrong.

Normal means not waiting up all hours of the night with hopes that he’ll come home unscathed, he’ll come home at all. The reality you two face and discussed plenty of times was that he could not come home one night. It was a scary thought but just like with getting attacked tonight, it’s not real until it happens. Peer doesn’t want you up waiting for him and you want proper sleep. Peter says he’ll lay down the suit at some point but you know Peter well enough to know that there better be another spider-kid out there for that to ever happen.

Peter wants you to be able to walk down the street and not have this fear that one of his villains are going to come after you because Peter doesn’t kill them. You don’t want that. You hate having to look over your shoulder all the time but you do because you love Peter.

The two of you had discussed kids once and how great kids are but, while Peter wants kids, he’s not sure if he’d want his own kids to have his powers. He’s not positive but he’s pretty sure his kids would be spider-kids. He doesn’t know if he wants to push the moral obligation of keeping people safe while endangering themselves onto them. That is not fair and he doesn’t want you to have to help make that choice.

Peter wants this normal life where he works a normal job, comes home to someone he loves, and that’s it. There are no scary villains or aliens waiting to destroy the planet, waiting for him to have to go and defeat either. He can’t normal because he’s not and you deserve a chance at a normal life because you’re normal.

However, what Peter doesn’t realize is that you don’t care.

“Did you catch them?” You ask.

Peter shakes his head. “No, almost.”

“I’ll stay with my parents until you catch them and then I’m coming back.” You cross your arms over your chest, your demeanor making a one-eighty from a few minutes prior. “And I’ll ask May if you’re lying.”

Peter shakes his head, his cheeks red from crying and from the surge of anger. “You can get killed!”

“So can you! You have to protect the things you care about most? Well, why the hell won’t you let me look out for the one person I care about most? Because, Peter, that’s you. It’s always you. You think protecting me is shipping me off? That’s the worst thing you can do. I don’t care about normal. If I cared, I would have left when I found out you were Spider-Man two years ago.”

Peter stays silent for a few seconds before running a hand through his messy hair. “I…can’t lost you.”

“You won’t.” You promise. “Deal?”

Peter watches your pleading eyes knowing he shouldn’t agree with you. He can still sense your fear, a blessing and a curse of his spidey senses. You’re putting up a confident, strong front now because you don’t want to lose him and he knows that. It’s the reason he shouldn’t agree but the plea of our words is stronger. Your love for him outweighs your fear.

“Okay.” Peter agrees.

“I’ll go in the morning then.” You nod and so does Peter. Your eyes move to his side before he has a chance to reply. “You should change though, my turn to help.” You point to the cut on his side that’s barely bleeding.

“Right, right.” Peter nods, cheeks now red from embarrassment as he turns for the door.

“And Peter?” Peter turns to look at you. “Normal is boring.”


	46. Personal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Death isn’t personal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Personal by Against The Current

**ᵞᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵘᶰᵍᵉʳ**  

Peter’s love for saving people was something you truly admired. He was so selfless and carefree. Of course, you hated that he blew you off all the time but he did it for the greater good. He did it to help those who can’t help themselves. He was so selfless and he got caught up in it.

The round ship was soaring high in the sky and Peter had eyes wider than you’d ever seen before. You took one look at the sky outside of the bus window and knew. He had to help the city. You and Ned caused a distraction after Peter had promised he’d call you later.

The call never came.

The call didn’t come and instead, you were surrounded by people turning to ash. Just, vanishing. People you knew and loved and cared about, just turning to ash and panic set in. You called and called and called and KAREN never answered. Peter didn’t answer. It was silent. Nothing.

Days had passed and no one knew what happened. No one knew for sure, anyway. But, you were finding out because May came to talk to you. She told you that Tony Stark had come and told her that Peter was one of the people who had turned to ash. He went to fight with him. Tony tried to get Peter to stay on Earth and stay close to the ground but, Peter liked to help people. He wanted to be like the Tony Stark. So, he hid on the ship and went to space. That was it.

And everything felt like it had crumbled. One of your parents were gone, one of your close friends, family from all over. And now, you had to find out that Peter, the one person who should have been able to fight whatever happened off, was one of those taken. Gone.

However, Tony and the remaining Avengers were determined people. They figured out a way to get everyone back. People started just turning up again and it was like some sort of insane miracle. Your mom showed up and then your best friend. Phone calls and text messages from family poured in that they were all turning up. The news played of happiness, everyone just showing up and it all felt a little too good to be true. You thought it was but then your phone rang.

“Y/n?”

Your heart jumped to your throat and tears swelled. “Peter!”

**ᵂʰᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵗᵘʳᶰ ᵍʳᵉʸ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶤᵗ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒᶰᵃˡ  
**

You went to Peter’s that night he called. It’d been months since he’d disappeared with everyone else but it felt like time had just stood still while he was gone. He hugged you and you swore he was going to break you with his strength but not an ounce of you cared because you had him back. You got to have Peter back and all you wanted to do was cry and hug him, never let go. But everyone has to let go.

“I’m so sorry.” Peter apologizes, his arms still holding onto you.

“It’s okay, Pete.” You say, a crack in your voice as you bury your head in his shoulder.

“No,” Peter whispers and he pulls away, eyes brimming with tears and there’s no longer that innocent glint in his eyes.

You shake your head and your forehead creases in disbelief, a hint of betrayal. “Peter.”

“I-I-I have to. I’m so sorry.” Peter says and he means it.

He always means it. He’s always sorry for hurting you but is he really sorry this time? He died and he’s already apologizing because he’s going right back out there. Why can’t he just give it a break for two seconds? Let things just cool off. Think about how you feel for once instead of everyone else? He died and he should take a break. People everywhere died. The Avengers can handle this one and you don’t understand why he just has to go out.

“No, you don’t.” You whine and your lip quivers with the ache of your heart. “You….you. I just got you back.”

“I know.” Peter’s voice is just above a whisper. “B-but I can’t give this up and t-they need the help.”

“They brought back half of the damn world. They can do this themselves, too. Peter, please.” You plead and you grip the front of his shirt in desperation.

A lump forms in Peter’s throat as a tear falls down his cheek. He can hear your heartbeat thump and feel your pulse become more erratic. He can sense what you feel on top of what he feels and it kills him. “I love you.” Peter says and he’s never said it before. 

“I love you, too.” It’s a whine that falls from your throat because you know he told you because of what happened and what he’s afraid is going to happen.

He does love you, he’s loved you for a long time but he never had the courage to say it. He does now because the next day he’s going out and he already didn’t come home once, he may not come back again. It’s a terrible game he’s playing with fate.

**ᵂʰᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵐʸ ʰᵉʳᵒ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶤᵗ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒᶰᵃˡ  
**

Peter didn’t come home. He didn’t come back. Your biggest fear had come true and it’s not fair. When Peter didn’t answer your call, you brushed it off because maybe it’s like last time. When KAREN didn’t answer, you brushed it off because maybe it’s like last time. May hadn’t called. Tony wasn’t showing up at your front door. You brushed it off because maybe he forgot to tell KAREN to call you back or answer when he’s fighting again. Because maybe it just got rough because there’s no way he could die again.

But he did.

It wasn’t Tony Stark that showed up at your door. It wasn’t May or Ned. It was Steve Rogers, the Captain America himself. When he showed up, it threw you because why the hell would Steve Rogers be at your door? The only Avenger you’d met was Tony and as far you knew, Peter only kind of met Steve when he stole his shield.

“I’m sorry.” Steve said as he stood in the opening of your home.

“Where’s Peter?” You asked and your voice doesn’t even sound like your own because you knew. There’s that gnawing at the pit of your stomach and you just know.

“His aunt asked me to tell you.” Steve said with a softness in his words but sadness in his eyes. “He’s gone.”

“Gone?” You ask and the denial is running through your veins because how does someone die twice? What kind of sick and twisted joke is that?

“Things went wrong and he went to help Tony.” Steve shakes his head, regaining himself. “He didn’t make it. He died trying to save Tony.”

Steve sounds like a cop explaining the story with minimal detail and you can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t know you, because he doesn’t think you should know, or because he can’t bear to actually give you details. But, maybe that’s for the best. Maybe you shouldn’t know exactly how Peter died, just that he did so trying to protect someone. Trying to protect someone he truly cared about and looked up to. At the end of the day, it’s not how someone dies that matters. It’s that they’re gone.

**ᴴᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢᵗʳᵃᶤᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᵐʸ ᶰᵉᶜᵏ˒ ᵗʷᶤˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵃˡᵏ  
**

What are you supposed to do when the one way you were always able to contact someone no longer works? What do you do when you realize that’s just it?

A phone call. That’s how you always talked. Peter always said he’d be a phone call away no matter what. If he were in a fight, on a mission, even sleeping. Peter would be a phone call away. Sure, sometimes that meant you actually just talked to KAREN and listened to whatever Peter had told her to tell you but it was something. It was a phone call and a security that Peter was on the other end but he couldn’t speak at that moment. He  _would_  be able to later.

He was always able to later which is what’s so devasting because all you can do is lay in bed or sit on your fire escape with tears in your eyes are you remember the promise Peter couldn’t keep.

_“Are you okay?” Peter asks, sitting at the end of your bed as you help him bandage up a cut on his arm._

_You nod, pushing away the gnawing in your stomach. “Yeah, should be asking you that.” You give him a fake smile but he doesn’t return it._

_“What’s wrong?” Peter asks and he stares at you with big eyes filled with warmth and life, innocence and curiosity._

_“You get hurt a lot.” You say so softly that if it weren’t for Peter’s heightened hearing, he wouldn’t have been able to hear you._

_“Yeah,” Peter starts. “But…I’m okay. I’m always okay.” Peter states quickly._

_“But what if you’re not?” You argue, a sense of frustration running through you._

_You’d never ask him to give it up but sometimes, it’s like he doesn’t understand your worry. You worry about him day in and day out and he doesn’t seem to realize it. Or maybe he does but he chooses to deny it for his own sanity._

_Peter’s heart sinks and there are sometimes he hates being Spider-Man and it’s always moments like these, the moments where his sanity takes a back seat because he knows you’re scared for him._

_“I-I-I will be.” Peter rushes his words. “You can call and if I can’t answer, KAREN will and she’ll tell you I’m fine. I promise.” Peter rambles quickly and his eyes are almost desperate but still wide and innocent._

_“Promise, promise?” You ask, double checking that at least you’ll have some form of security at midnight when you haven’t heard from him._

_“Promise.” Peter grins, hands on your hips and slightly swaying you._

_You smiled back with a sense of false security._

You swore up and down as you looked at the sky because that seems to be the only time you feel like you’re talking to Peter. If he’s out there, somewhere, you just want him to know you’re pissed. You’re pissed because he left you and he made a promise he couldn’t keep. Promised he’d be a phone call away but phone calls don’t work when one person isn’t even on the face of the planet anymore. When one doesn’t even have a heartbeat.

It hurts every day to look at a blue sky and have to curse at whoever or whatever is up there and took Peter away from you. Twice. It’s like a sick joke someone is playing and you can’t stand it. You just want him back.

**ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵐʸ ᵃʳᵐᵒᵘʳ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵘˢ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶠᶤᶰᶤˢʰ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶜʳᵒʷᶰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵗᵒᶰᵉ  
**

Death and that Titan took away your hero, your love, and your best friend. They took away the one person that meant the entire world to you and to say you were beyond heartbroken would be an understatement.

You didn’t leave your room for weeks. You barely ate, barely showered, hardly ever talked other than to the sky. Talking to the sky because maybe Peter can hear you and it’s not real. Everything just felt numb and dull, the blue skies were grey and it was like you just moved in slow motion.

You caught glimpses of the news and every once in a while, a reporter would say something about Spider-Man. You always walked away because yes, they can say they miss him and how much the city needs him but they didn’t know him. They didn’t know him like you did. But that’s the thing. They didn’t know him like you did and you know that Peter would be feeling guilty. If there’s a way for him to see you, he’d feel guilty with you screaming at the skies and telling him off. But, he’d be disappointed.

He’d be disappointed because you should get up. Get up and  _do_  something.

So, you finally do.

_“Are these your old webshooters?” You giggle, fiddling with the makeshift shooter._

_“Uh…oh…um….” Peter stutters, cheeks turning the pretty shade of red you adore. “Yeah.” He says sheepishly._

_“You made them?” You ask and you look amused but interested and impressed._

_“Yep.” Peter says and he gains a little confidence in his smile._

_“How do they work?”_

_Peter’s entire face lights up with his eyes going big and doe-eyed. Peter loves talking about things he makes. Formulas, webshooters, computers, whatever he can get his hands on, fix up, and put together. Peter could talk your ear off about it all and considering you, Ned, and May were the only people besides Tony Stark who knew about Peter being Spider-Man, Peter was itching to ramble about his webshooters._

_Sure, the ones with the Spider-Man suit he got from Tony are way better but the ones he made are incredible. You remembered watching the YouTube videos of him saving people. These were the webshooters he used. These little things he put together from spare parts and what looks to be some type of woodwind instrument. He’s a genius and he never seizes to amaze you._

_“You’re incredible, Peter Parker.” You beamed at him as he showed you how they worked and how the web fluid cartridges attach._

_“Y-you really think so?” Peter asks with genuine curiosity._

_“Of course.” You smile sweetly and peck his cheek. “You wanna tell me about the formula?”_

_“Yes, yeah, yeah.” Peter nearly bounces as he rushes to his notebook and flips the recent formula._

You’re not Peter. You’re not Spider-Man. You don’t have powers or superhuman strength. You’re just you but to hell if you’re gonna sit around and let Peter’s death be some sort of waste.

You called May and asked if you could have Peter’s old webshooters. She was a little confused but agreed to let you have them. She let you have a few of Peter’s things after the funeral had taken place but you never actually asked or talked much after. It’s just hard. But it did feel good to see her when you got the webshooters and you know that Peter would want you to keep in touch. So, you make sure to add that to your list of things to do.

Peter made everything look easy but you weren’t someone who gave up and it was pure luck Peter happened to leave his notebook containing one of the formulas at your place. A genius he was? Yes. Forgetful? Also, yes. It wasn’t his most recently modified formula but it would work.

You followed it exactly and after hours of deciphering Peter’s chicken scratch handwriting and putting everything together, your room became decorated in homemade webbing.

It took a few months of secretly practicing in an abandoned warehouse but you were able to get the hang of the webshooters and the movements you needed to make. You weren’t nearly as agile as Peter and you didn’t have the strength he did but it’d work. You put together a suit like his homemade one and you know it’s dangerous. You don’t have to the protection Peter did but it’s what you can do and it’s helping you cope with him not being here. He isn’t here anymore. Someone has to do something and that someone might as well be you.

“Hey, Pete.” You whisper, kneeling on the grass. “You’d totally kill me for this but you’d kill me for doing nothing, too.” You state. “But, in my defense, I asked you not to go so if something happens, it’s kind of on you.” A wind gust comes and blows leaves around you which was probably a coincidence but you’ll choose not to believe that. “You died. Again. And you’re not coming back this time and it sucks without you here but I’ll suck it up…for you.” You squint as you look at the sky. “And I’ll make you proud so don’t be too mad with me following your footsteps.”

You stand up and tug at the strap of your backpack, pulling it in front of you. You open the zipper revealing the blue and red clothing you’d put together and a few flowers you had dyed to match the coloring of Spider-Man. You pulled out the flowers and placed them on top of the stone that read “Peter Benjamin Parker”. The stone is cold beneath your fingertips as the flowers balance and tears brim from your eyes. Your throat constricts and it takes everything in you not to let out a cry.

“I’m sorry, Peter.”

**ᴺᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶰᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶤᵗ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒᶰᵃˡ**


	47. Let Me In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter can’t seem to let you all the way in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by One Tree Hill

Peter’s following you to the back his dorm room, right on your heels. He can feel your anger radiating off of you and he can hear your heartbeat beating as if it’s his own. But, he can nearly taste the saltiness of the tears that are threatening to spill as you open the door and go right to the top drawer of his dresser. And worst of all, he can feel how heartbroken you are. 

“W-where you going? Why’re you leaving?” Peter asks and his eyes are innocent but knowing, glossing over.

“Home.” You say the word and try to keep your voice from cracking as your grab the few articles of clothing you’ve left for the nights you’d stay.

“Please, please don’t go. I-I-I want you to say.” Peter stammers, his mind running too fast for his mouth to keep up.

“No, you don’t!” You snap, turning to face him. “You don’t want me to stay! I can’t do this anymore, Peter!”

“I promise it-”

You yell in frustration, pulling at the roots of your hair. “You say that every damn time! I try and I try and I try with you and you never give me anything in return!” Your voice cracks and your eyes start to blur.

“I’m trying!” Peter yells back, trying to defend himself. “I am, I am, y/n, I promise!”

“You’re not!” Your voice cracks again as a few tears start to slip. “You won’t tell me anything! I try and be there for you. You call me at all hours of the night because you had a nightmare but you never tell me why and you always leave me when I need you and you never tell me what the bruises are from and the blood on your clothes! You won’t tell me anything and you don’t tell me anything! Peter!” You step closer to him and his heart is breaking as he just stands there and listens to every word that comes from your mouth. “ _Why can’t you just let me all the way in_?” You scream as tears start streaming down your face.

That was it. Your voice is completely broken like it’s never going to return to normal and Peter could almost hear the shattering of your heart. His heightened senses are making him feel every piece of brokenness in your words and in your heartbeat and in your tears. And he just feels the anger and resentment you have towards him always leaving when you need him the most and it is so unfair but he can’t help but think he deserves the benefit of the doubt. He tries to let you in and you don’t seem to notice.

“I died! I died, okay?  _I died_!” Peter repeats it and a few tears slip from his eyes and fall down his cheeks. “I died and I-I-I don’t know what t-t-to do!”

“God! Peter!” You throw your head back and your voice is drenched in pure and absolute fury. “My entire family died! Half the planet died! I’m sorry you died, Peter, I am but you never told me and I asked you and asked and asked and you brushed me off every single time!” Your voice drops back down to a sobbed whine. “How am I supposed to know you died when you won’t let me in? Are you going to tell me what happened?” You ask the question but you already know the answer. You’re asking to prove your point.

Peter looks to the floor and tears fall freely. His hand comes and wipes a few away while his hair covers his forehead. His shoulder shake and chest heaves. He’s breaking like you are but the difference is that it’s his fault. It’s his fault because he doesn’t know how to ask for help.

“Exactly!” You yell through a sobbed cough.

“What do you want me from?” Peter whines, looking up to you, lip quivering.

“I just need to hear you say that you need me, too.” Your voice comes back down but your chin in wrinkled while your jaw is clenched, throat tightening as you try to not let out another sob.

“I-I-I do. I do, need you. You know I do.” Peter cries as he cups your face, thumbs running over your tears while your eyes shut for a few seconds.

“I don’t know. I don’t know because you don’t show it.” Your cry is just above a whisper and Peter just shakes his head. “I can’t do it, Peter.”

“Please, please, I will-” Peter cuts himself off as you brush his hands away and move back to your bag. “I-please. I–I can try…harder.” Peter swallow the large lump in his throat as his eyes turn redder with the passing seconds.

You turn around for one last question. “Do you love me?” You manage to ask it without a crack in your voice.

Peter stares at you and he wants to tell you he does. He wants to scream it from the rooftops and plaster it all across his campus and all across the entire city. But he says nothing. He can’t tell you because he’s terrified. He’s so scared of letting anyone in, even you, that he just remains silent. He needs you like he needs oxygen but he can’t say he loves you.

“Goodbye, Peter.” You mutter, holding back a cry as you grab your bag and head for the door.


	48. Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s stuck under a building but unlike last time, he doesn’t come out unscathed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also a prequel to my series Hamartia but it can stand alone as a one-shot which is why it's also being posted here!!

He’s been here before. This has happened and he was okay. Peter panicked the first time, not having a Stark suit, being on his own, first time facing off his own villain, only being fifteen. This time is different though. The black and red Stark suit cling to his body, KAREN is right in his ear, connected to every single Avenger as well as his other phone contacts and emergency responses. This isn’t his first villain. He can do it. At least, he should be able to do it. Peter should be able to lift the debris from the falling building off of himself but when he moves, when he attempts it, that’s when the paralyzing pain strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

An ear piercing scream leaves Peter’s lungs, one that’s nearly ripping the muscle of his throat to shreds. Tears prick the back of his eyes, water clouding his vision as he tries to focus his mind. His head shakes, trying to get the tears to move from his eyes but it proves difficult with the mask around his face. His breathing becomes shallow, the more he tries to focus, more he tries to ignore the sheering pain shooting through his limbs.

His right arm is trapped, shoulder to just past the elbow. It’s all pins and needles, the loss of circulation enough to make him scream with every twitch. But it’s his right leg that’s got his head spinning and his heart rate going erratic. His blood pressure is dropping, the adrenaline wearing low and it’s only then Peter hears KAREN in his ear.

“You are severely injured, Peter. I have signaled for an ambulance.” KAREN says.

Peter coughs, the coughing turning into painful and heart-wrenching cries. “Stark.” Peter croaks, his head swimming, foggy up. “Need Stark.” Peter manages to stay. “Please.” A broken cry falls from his blood-covered lips.

Blood comes up with every cough while KAREN is calling for help, Peter stuck just waiting. He’s trapped and unable to move. He doesn’t know the damage to his body and he doesn’t  _want_  to know. He knows it’s bad. The pain is nothing he’s ever experienced, his breathing is too low. A part of Peter is even certain this is what death feels like.

“KAREN?” Peter asks, sniffling back his cry to talk to his AI.

“They are on their way, Peter.” KAREN responds.

Peter breaks just enough to let out another cry, one of mixed panic and pain. “Ca-can you call May for me? I–” Peter starts coughing once more, tasting iron with every cough ripping his throat. He sobs, yelling at the top of his legs, the slightest movement making it feel like his arm is being ripped from him, his leg even going numb. “I need to talk to May.” Peter cries out. “Please, c-call May.”

It’s a rash decision but the pain Peter is in and the weakness that’s coming over his body, he needs to talk to May. She lost her husband, brother-in-law, and sister-in-law. Her parents are dead and Peter is all she has. Peter cannot let himself slip into the darkness that’s whispering his name without calling May.

The phone connects, May’s voice ringing through the phone. “Peter? Is everything okay?” Call it a mother’s intuition, but when she saw the number on her caller ID, she had a horrible, agonizing feeling in her gut that something was wrong.

“May?” Peter tries his best to hold back a sob. “I-I’m sorry. I tried and I can-can’t, I can’t do it. I’m sorry, May.” Peter sobs his forehead resting against the flat concrete beneath him, tearing flooding his vision.

“What happened?” There’s panic in May’s voice and no other sound on her end, as if she’s completely stopped everything she was doing, frozen in place while she waits for her nephew to say anything.

“‘M stuck.” Peter croaks. “I dunno but it’s not–” Peter coughs and all-too-familiar taste of iron floods his tongue. “You’re the best aunt anyone could ask for.”

“Don’t you say that, do you hear me, Peter?” May’s running around the apartment, tossing the phone on speaker as she’s contacting Tony.

Peter sniffles and he can feel it. He can feel the light and the darkness coming for him, death ready to hold his hand for the second time in his twenty years of living. It’s coming for him. Whatever is wrong with him is killing him and it’s doing it painfully slow.

“I’m sorry.” Peter cries and May’s eyes well up with tears. “I love you and you’re like a mom to me. You did a good job and it’s not your fault, okay?”

“Listen to me, Peter Parker.” May pulls herself together, stopping just before she opens the door to the apartment. “You might be Spider-Man but you’re my nephew. You’re like a son to me and you’re gonna hang on. Do not give up. There is no giving up.”

It sounds like a cheesy pep talk when a kid doesn’t make a sport’s team but it’s all May can say. Peter isn’t going to go into details but his voice is weak and he is sobbing. When Peter freaks out, May freaks out and vise versa. Peter doesn’t freak out and he sure as hell doesn’t break down unless something is bad. And this? This is about as bad as it gets and May just needs to make sure Peter hangs on. It’s all she can do.

And for Peter? He knows he needs to keep trying to stay awake even when his head is spinning and his blood pressure starts to fall into the danger zone. He knows he needs to hang onto whatever is left of him because without May, without his friends, without the people he calls family, he only has things worth dying for, not worth living for. And he still has most of them. He has his family.

“It just hurts.” Peter whines, holding back a sob, trying to gain some clarity.

“Tony is on his way with help.” May tries to reassure with the quiver in her voice.

“I know.” Peter whispers because he already knows.

Despite the shock, he’s not too arrogant to know when he needs help and he knows KAREN can reach any of the Avengers at any time. It’s the team. But, with May telling him that, he really knows Tony is coming because that means May texted him. And maybe that means he’s close.

“Peter?” May asks, her voice washed with panic. “Peter!”

“Sorry.” Peter mumbles and it’s like this wave of calm washes over him. His heart is starting to calm down and the pain is only located in his right leg, but it’s fading just as his thoughts are and his eyes are drooping closed. His head feels light, light as a cloud even and he’s starting to feel at peace. “Tired.” Peter says.

“Peter,” It’s KAREN in his ear now. “You’re losing a lot of blood. You need to stay awake.”

“Tired.” Peter sucks in a shallow and staggered breath.

And there’s this part of his brain that is just howling at him to stay awake. If he sleeps, that’s it. He is not coming out of this. He doesn’t know the damage but if blood loss is part of his issue, he’ll need an emergency room quicker than he’ll be able to get out from under the building. And if it’s blood loss, where is he losing the blood? That voice is just screaming panicked questions at him to keep him alert but there’s a quieter, more sinister voice that’s lulling Peter to sleep.

It’s sticking a hand over the howling voice, long and skinny fingers, skeleton-like fingers just wrapping around the howling voice, hiding it from Peter’s mind. From his ears, the place he needs to hear and it replaces that howl with sweet and calm whispers of sleep and happy dreams with bright lights and Uncle Ben. It’s calling him to another side, sinister and creepy grin ready to pull the young life with it. And it’s working.

Peter’s eyes close despite May still on the line screaming for Peter to answer her, despite KAREN’s voice telling Peter to stay awake in his other ear. Their voices are drowned out by the grim voice of death. Peter’s heart is beating at a low but steady and barely beating rate, the muscles of his body relaxing with every second while his body grows cold limb by limb and then it’s over. Peter’s lost his fight between fatigue and determination.

* * *

 

It was a light, bright and warm and so welcoming. And Peter walked towards it, steady steps that didn’t ache, didn’t hurt. His head was clear and content, as if he were perfectly fine. Another building hadn’t come down on top of him. The Lizard hadn’t gotten away. He didn’t call May. Nothing. Just….contentement. Pain-free until it wasn’t.

It’s still a little bright as Peter’s eyes slowly open, eyelids weighing down with a heavy sedative. It’s a sharp pain in his right leg, just above the knee that hurts while his shoulder is experiencing a similar pain just a little duller, possibly even a little tolerable while it’s hung in a sling. His chest hurts, an ache like after holding his breath for too long and finally letting the air hit his lungs for the first time. And his head is pounding while he blinks. And then everything floods him.

The Lizard. Crunching of the concrete. The darkness and dust. The horrible, muscle tearing pain in his leg and arm. The fear.

Peter groans, the groan deep in his throat while he turns his head, a horrible pain making him stop. It’s like he has a kink in his neck, something that doesn’t even cause him worry or panic. He was trapped under a building in an uncomfortable position, if his neck didn’t hurt, he’d be worried.

“M-m-m” Peter tries to get the word out only for it turn into a dry cough, pulling May from her shallow sleep.

“You’re awake.” May’s face is pale but filled with relief as she jumps to her feet and gets Peter a drink of water. He takes it and May’s eyes fill with the tears at the sight of her nephew awake.

It’s been three days. It has been the three longest days of her life waiting for him to wake up. She’s run over what to tell him a million times knowing there’s nothing that’s going to lessen the blow to him, knowing it’s going to break his heart. Tony offered to tell him as did Bruce but May said it’s best if she does it. She’s his aunt, the person who’s basically his mother, this is for her to tell him.

“Hey, May.” Peter mutters, the corners of his mouth trying to pull into a soft smile.

She returns the same shallow smile before kissing the top of his head and running his hand through the messy strands. “I need to get your doctor.” It’s a sad smile that comes to her face.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asks before May can walk away. He’d like to say it’s just his spider sense going off, telling him that there’s something wrong but maybe it’s just the haunting look May gives him.

May shakes her head. “You were hurt, bad.” May says, trying to sugarcoat it but Peter knows whatever she’s going to say is going to be worse than just  _bad_. “When Tony and Rhodey found you,” May chokes away a few tears. “You were already unconscious and lost a lot of blood. It was your leg.” May says, her eyes glancing to Peter’s right leg and his face falls, the remaining color completely drained.

“What about my leg?” Peter asks and he’s scared to look, fearing the absolute worst.

He knew the pain wasn’t right. He’s had bad pain before, even been electrocuted but there was just something different about how his leg felt under the concrete that covered his body. It was almost a gnawing and sawing pain on the limb, aching and sharp and burning. And then it’s a rush of memories with KAREN talking about his blood loss and how the damage his body sustained was really bad. Things piece together slowly and he knows. Without looking, he knows because the pain is still there.

“I’m so sorry, Peter.” May brushes her hand over his head. “It’s gone. They couldn’t save it.”

Peter’s eyes widen and the tiredness he felt vanishes in an instant. May’s voice turns to an echo while panic starts to set in. Gone. It’s gone. His heart races and he has to move the blanket from his lower half, he has to be sure he heard May correctly and he hates that he did. The white blanket is pulled off and he’s left with his left leg intact but his right leg below the knee is gone. A metal ring covers where the rest of the limb should be. The skin around the metal plate is red, a bright healing red. There are staggered and stitched up cuts at the base of the metal leading up his leg, all stopping in different places and all from being trapped under the building, all willing to leave Peter with scars. And Peter’s world feels like it’s just been shattered.

How is he supposed to be Spider-Man without a leg? Scaling buildings seems like it’s going to be impossible. There’s not a doubt in Peter’s mind that the metal ring is there for a prosthetic but a piece of metal isn’t going to be able to stick to walls or buildings or anything. And how he is supposed to move without a leg, one made of metal? Part of what makes him Spider-Man is his agility and ability to move quick and slick. A metal leg is going to prevent that. He has these powers, his powers lead him here, and now his powers are useless.

“Peter?” May calls, trying to pull him from his thoughts.

“Go away.” Peter mutters, head hitting the pillow.

May sighs but doesn’t protest. “I’ll go get your doctor.”

She knew he wouldn’t take it well so she tries not to take it personally. Ben and May raised him to believe that if he could do good things for other people, he had a moral obligation to do those things and because of that, Spider-Man has become something more than just a hero. It’s a part of him and May knows her nephew is thinking of all the ways this is going to destroy that part of him. And while she knows that, it doesn’t make his reaction any easier.

Peter’s SHIELD doctor comes in alongside two SHIELD nurses, Tony, and May. The doctor is talking, explaining exactly what happened. The building crushed his leg and the limb was mangled by the time they got him out from under the building. He lost almost half of his blood volume and if it weren’t for him being genetically altered, he likely would have died. They decided to add the metal attachment the day after the amputation, knowing his body would be better suited to add the metal and allow the rest of his limb to heal around it.

They go on about how he tore his rotator cuff and he fractured his shoulder blade but those injuries are healing fine and within two weeks, his arm will be back to normal but everything seems to just go in one ear and out the other.

While trapped under the building, Peter felt a numbness through his limbs and through his chest and now that numbness is back but this is worse. At least his numbness then was a sign that he was breathing despite the damage his body sustained. In order to feel numbness, he has to be alive. But now the numbness is just from shock and immediate heartbreak, making him wish he didn’t make it out. At least under the building, he had hope but in a SHIELD hospital with bright lights, arm in a sling, people in and out of the room, and one leg, he can’t find that spark.

To him, he doesn’t have anything to hope for. His life is already changed and according to him, it’s worse. It’s been minutes and he’s already convinced himself that he’ll never be the same and everything is over. Under the building, he had the choice to fight or give up but now he’s breathing and he’ll be fine. He doesn’t have this choice and  _somehow_ , that’s worse.

“I have a leg attachment for you.” Tony says, brows furrowing at the distant and straight-faced expression on Peter’s face. “It’ll move and function just as your other leg.”

Peter scoffs, turning his head to look at the window with white blinds covering the glass. “Sure, it will.”

“Peter.” May warns.

“Can’t you just go? I wanna be alone.” Peter keeps his eyes on the window while the doctor, nurses, Tony, and May look between each other but decide they’ll let him be.

“Are you in pain?” The doctor asks before he steps out.

“You took off my leg and now I have metal attached to flesh. Flesh and metal don’t exactly mold well together, what do you think?” Peter slowly turns his head to look at the doctor, expression flat as a board.

“I’ll have a nurse get something stronger.” The doctor isn’t phased by Peter’s attitude, used the mistreated by others in the same position as Peter.

A nurse comes in a few minutes later with more pain meds. She sets him up with a Morphine drip and tells him how it works while he remains silent and soon enough, she’s out of the room allowing Peter to himself. He presses the button that controls the drip and the medication starts flowing through his bloodstream, a sense of blissfulness consuming him as it makes him drowsy before he falls asleep.

As the day goes on, Peter’s friends stop in to see him but he mostly ignores them. He’s angry at the world and himself but he’s also disappointed and he’s afraid they’ll start looking at him differently. They already look at him with pity in their eyes and Peter hates it. He’s never been a fan of pitty but today, under these circumstances, it just makes his head scream for more morphine to knock him out.

He looked at Ned and you differently after what happened to the two of you and he’s not dealing with either of you looking at him differently and he as hell is not going to let MJ pitty him. So, his thumb presses the button and the morphine kicks in, numbing the pain and the ache of his chest before he feels comfortable to sleep.

The first week goes by just like that. Peter stays in pain and barely says anything to anyone, eating just enough to get by. Everything anyone has to say goes in one ear and out the other, relying on the morphine to make him feel anything besides numbness and pain before he lets it drag him to sleep. It’s all but killing May to watch him go through his and she’s trying the nice routine with him first but as week two rolls around, she’s not sure how long she can keep it up.

* * *

 

Three weeks, he’s not moved from his bed other than limping to the bathroom in two weeks despite the doctor constantly telling him he needs to get up and start on the prosthetic. Tony has tried, his friends, MJ, everyone has tried getting him out of his bed but he refuses. He doesn’t see a point. He’s been through a traumatic experience and everyone understands and respects that but Peter doesn’t give up. He wasn’t raised to give up because something horrible happened.

“Get up.” May rips the blanket off of him, earning a glare from Peter before he rips the blanket back from her.

“No.” He says, eyes focused on the TV, the news talking about how they need Spider-Man back, how he disappeared after facing off with the Lizard. Everyone is speculating he’s dead, not knowing he’s sitting in a hospital bed, refusing to do anything.

“Get up right now, Peter Parker.” May’s voice is stern with frustration. “Now.”

“No.” Peter snaps. “And you can’t make me anymore.” Peter scoffs.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to–”

“My aunt.” Peter quips. “I don’t want to get up and you shouldn’t have told them to do this.” Peter’s voice raises as he points to his right leg. “Maybe I didn’t want it.”

“You would have rather you die?” May asks him.

“It’s better than this.” Peter mumbles.

The comment is quick and Peter immediately regrets it but there’s depression deep in his mind, clouding his rational decision making and it’s making him all the more stubborn. So, he doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t take it back. He sits with his arms crossed and eyes staring at the TV.

“Fine.” May walks away from his bed and grabs her things. “You’re not a kid anymore so you can do this on your own.”

Peter glances to her and there’s a pulling in his chest, eyes starting to gloss over with tears. He doesn’t want May to leave. He might not talk, or at least when he does, he’s not pleasant but he doesn’t want her to leave. She’s like a mom to him and, adult or not, he does need her.

And there’s the bitter and the pissed off side of Peter that is mean to everyone and judging himself, yelling at himself for everything that’s lead to this moment but there’s that smaller voice, mouse-like even, that’s telling him this is wrong. He’s wrong and he needs to try, put a little bit of faith and hope into this. But, he can’t seem to bring himself to say anything, he just stares at May with watery eyes and she leaves.

It’s not something she wants to do and she will be back because she could never leave him like that but maybe he needs a little bit of tough love. Ever since he went through the events with Thanos, him dying and being stuck in the soul stone, he’s had spurts of depression and sometimes to get him out of bed, May has to give him tough love. It hurts her more than Peter will know but it works. It worked when he came back from the dead and it worked after Ned and it worked after Flash and worked again after you. May knows it’ll work with this again.

More days go by and Ned has tried talking to Peter but that didn’t prove to be any good, the scar across Ned’s neck telling Peter he’s a failure with or without a leg, making him question if he should have ever put on a mask to begin with. But, Ned tried anyway. He pushed through, Peter asking him to leave and yelling at him to leave. He tried and while it didn’t work, it was something.

Tony tried just as well as Rhodey and Bucky. Peter looks at Tony as a father figure, he designed the leg, he had an arc reactor in his chest keeping him alive and then put it right back in. Tony had to try and he couldn’t stand seeing a kid he grew to look at his own in this state, locked away in a hospital bed, away from the rest of the world. But, just like with Ned, nothing. Peter refused to get up.

And when it came to Rhodey and Bucky, it didn’t go smoothly. It had been almost four weeks and it took a lot from Rhodey to not speak to Peter like he were the kid he grew to know. It’s as if Peter, despite being able to see the mechanical legs attached with Rhodey’s, forgot Rhodey’s paralyzed. Forgot Rhodey’s ranking in the military, completely forgot he’s War Machine with or without working flesh and muscle. It’s not about flesh, it’s about what’s in his heart and head and Peter is outright ignoring it.

Bucky tried a nicer approached. He tried the explaining how he had fallen way back in the ’40s and he was given that metal arm just to be an assassin, the same story Peter heard just with more gruesome details of the things Bucky did, what they made him do. Why they gave him an arm. Bucky’s point was that he doesn’t have an arm and yet here he is. He can still do everything he did before but, Peter in his state of low depression and stubborness, refused to look at it as the same as him. And it is a little different but not by much.

Bucky is relying on Wakandan tech to replace the limb he lost and Peter is supposed to be relying on Stark tech. They’re both relying on tech from two of the best engineers. One just happens to be an arm and one happens to be a leg but that’s it. If Bucky can do it, Peter can do it. He just can’t see it yet.

That’s when they resort to having Michelle talk to him. They’ve had history so the thought was that maybe someone he was romantically involved with and remained friends with can lead some insight but, it only fell flat and lead to MJ being annoyed with both herself at not being able to help and Peter for being less than kind. It lead to her leaving on the verge of tears from the frustration. She knew he was Spider-man but she didn’t sign up for this and she doesn’t know how to help him, she doesn’t know what to do or say. So, you take your turn.

You take a seat in one of the chairs beside Peter’s bed, facing the tv, and all he does is roll his eyes at you, arms crossed over his chest. “Whatever you say isn’t going to help.” Peter mutters.

“So, you really wanna rot away in a hospital bed in a SHIELD building? That’s your big plan, huh?” You snark, looking over to him.

“Go away.” Peter sighs.

“Nah, I’m chill here. I should probably watch the news more often anyway.” You turn your attention to the TV hanging on the wall in front of Peter’s bed and Peter’s blood boils while he reaches for the control for the morphine drip but you’re already grabbing it. “What? Want more? Hoping it’ll knock you out so you won’t have to hear me nag your ear off?”

“I’m in pain.” Peter retorts.

“You’re always in pain and it’s been four weeks. Shut up, get up, and deal with it. Don’t rely on a drip.” You hold it by the chord, taunting Peter.

“I’m not relying on a drip.  _I’m in pain_.” Peter grits his teeth.

“Do you know why you’re in pain? You’re depressed and you’re not moving. Your muscles are deteriorating but you know that. If you get up, it won’t hurt nearly as bad. Or are you starting to like it, too much?” Your eyes are narrowed while you grasped the drip having no intention of giving it back to him.

“Why do you care?” Peter groans, reaching over his bed but you just push your chair back before standing up and walking to the machine, unplugging the drip. “What the fu–”

“Want it? Get up.” You glare down at Peter and you aren’t having any of his shit. You care too much to watch him rot away in a bed.

“No.” Peter sits back in bed and you take your seat again, stuffing the button into your pocket.

“Look, if you’re gonna be a dick to Rhodey, Bucky, my fucking dad, MJ, and Ned, you’re gonna deal with me. And I’m not leaving until you get up so I guess you’re gonna have to get used to this.”

Peter scoffs, a try chuckle coming from his throat. “You have class.”

“Do I?” You ask, the quick shrug of your shoulders catching Peter’s eyes. “I don’t know, Pete. Do I want to be in engineering for me or for my dad? Is it for me, really? Maybe I should do something else. What about genetic studies?” Your eyes aren’t even on Peter anymore, they’re set back on the TV but Peter is looking at you, the scowl softening.

“You have practice.” Peter tries, his voice not as harsh.

You sigh. “Yeah, I do but the team will understand I’m here with you. I already cleared it with the captain.”

Peter mimics the sigh, running a hand through his hair and he’s been friends with you since you were freshmen in high school. You’ve never admitted it, but Peter’s always been a little convinced you told your dad he was Spider-Man.

You were the first person to find out, Peter just needing to tell someone about it and if your dad is Iron Man, Peter figured you wouldn’t tell anyone. And if you told your dad, it’s not like he was mad about it. But, either way, you’ve been friends and he does confide you when he can’t to Ned, MJ, or May. You get it a little better than the rest, it’s why you’re in here now. You get the whole hero thing.

“You’re really not gonna leave, are you?” Peter asks, the venom and scowl completely gone but his eyes are back on the tv.

You smile as you shake your head. “Nope, you’re stuck with me, dude.” You turn your head, sending Peter the smile and he rolls his eyes but he finds it hard not to crack a smile back at you.

“You, uh, you really gonna switch majors?” Peter asks, eyes now on yours.

You laugh with the shake of your head. “Nah. I’m just trying to get you out of bed.”

Peter huffs, but there’s still a smile crossing his lips. “I don’t want to get up.”

 **“** You’re really gonna throw it all away? **”**  You ask and this time, your voice doesn’t hold venom or sarcasm, not snark. It’s just an honest question.

“What else am I supposed to?”

“Get up.” You say as you move to face him fully. “You get up, Pete. It’s hard. No one said being a hero is easy but you gotta get up and try anyway.” You press. “Rhodey gave you the whole the spiel about it and so did Bucky but now I’m gonna. We’ve all had bad shit happen to us that we thought would end everything we do but we got up. We get up because either it’s the right the thing or because fuck you. But we get up. And we do what everything thinks we can’t anyway. I’m not a damn hero but I get up. Ned gets up. Wanda, Sam, T’Challa, Dr.Banner, Clint, Quill, Mantis, Drax, Fury, Maria, my dad, my mom,” You rush name after name in a single breath. “All of us get up and now it’s  _your_  turn.”

Peter lets out a breath and his eyes go to the blanket that’s covering his lower half while he thinks. This is why you can snap sense into Peter. You get it in the same way Peter does. You’re not kids anymore but sometimes, the older adults talk to you like you are. Like you’re kids dealing with adult problems and it doesn’t help. And it’s different when Ned tries because he’s only had one experience and MJ’s never had one luckily but you? You’ve been put in danger since you were little because of Tony being Iron Man.

“What if…” Peter trails off trying to get his words together. “W-what if I can’t do it?” He looks to you, his eyes catching the sharp blue of the arc reactor necklace around your neck. “What if it doesn’t work? What then?” His eyes meet yours with the end of the question.

“You deal with it.” You say. “Look, the only thing that makes you like a spider is your weird sticky ability and your warped circulator system. That’s it. You don’t have to scale walls. My dad uses blasters, Strange uses magic, Thor flies, Steve just gets around in cars and whatever other vehicles as does Nat and Clint and Bucky. Sam has mechanical wings. Do I need to go on?”

Peter chuckles, a genuine chuckle for the first time in a month. “No,” He shakes his head. “It-it’s just,” He takes in a breath. “Ned was almost killed because of me and I had two legs then. And you were, too.” Peter hangs his head as he remembers the sight of his two friends bleeding out at the hands of two other villains he’s had to face.

You nod and decide to stand up. “Yeah,” You let out a sigh. “I don’t have anything for that but, that’s part of it. I know you live by the whole moral obligation, with great power comes great responsibility thing and I respect that.” You gesture a hand out. “I admire you for it, even but you have to know that you can’t save everyone, two legs or one. Sometimes being a hero means you can’t save everyone.”

That. It’s that last sentence that strikes Peter in the way he needed it. Heroes can’t save everyone but Peter sure as hell doesn’t give up on trying to save everyone. When he’s given the ultimatum between a loved one and a group of people, he will figure out a way to save both even against all odds. He will cut the wire every single time and while he’s been laid up in this hospital bed, sulking in all his self-pity, it’s so much different hearing it come from you.

“I should be able to save you guys though.” Peter tries and this time, he moves to sit up straight, more than he’s done in weeks while in front of people. And this time, he’s not arguing either. He’s just stating the thought through his head but he’s readying himself to move regardless of what you’re going to say.

“We’re alive. Sure, we’re a little scarred over it but Ned is okay. Ya know, he only goes to therapy once a month and that’s  _his choice_. His therapist said he could come in once every two months. And you know damn well my dad would ship me off anywhere if I was really fucked up over it.” You crack another smile. “I have the scars from it and Ned does, too but we lived and we’re both okay. We’re just trying to get you to be okay now. You save everyone, but who saves you?” Peter goes to open his mouth but you don’t let him finish. “Us. We save you. We got you so, Peter, get your ass off this bed.” You extend a hand to him, your eyes locked with his and Peter wants to be stubborn but you’re right.

_They always get up._

“Um,” Peter sticks out his hand but doesn’t lock it with yours. “W-what if I want to stick to walls?” A smile comes to Peter’s face, it’s nervous and it’s a serious question but it makes you laugh.

“Bold of you to assume my dad and I aren’t working on one that will allow that.” You send him a smirk with the wiggle of your brows.

Peter looks down and pulls the blanket from his lap, revealing his left leg and right leg with the metal band around the end. “I’m ready.”

“Alright, Parker.” You give him a wide smile, pulling him to sit all the way up so his leg can hang off the edge of the bed before you move to get the prosthetic leg. “You know this is just a temp, right? Just for you to get used to it while we fix up the new one and you say what adjusts you need? It’ll be more like Bucky’s arm rather than something this detachable.”

Peter nods, watching you move to your knee to start hooking up the attachment to the end. “Adjustments?” He raises a brow with curiosity.

“Oh, yeah.” You chime. “Whatever can be done by dad and I will do. I’m willing to bet you’ll end up with an Iron Spider suit again but it’ll come out of the leg.” You pause for a second as you look up to Peter. “Actually, that’d be cool…”

Peter laughs from above you but it soon fades into something sheepish and awkward. “You, uh, you know that this…it’s not…” He shrugs his shoulders, the expression saying what he’s thinking.

“I know.” You look up to him. “Your mental health is your fight but we’re here to stand beside you in it. This though,” Your eyes glance between the doe-eyed brown eyes looking down to you and the prosthetic in your hands. ”Is your first step back to where you were.”

“Thanks, Stark.” Peter gives you a sheepish smile.

You nod. “But, your second step is apologizing to everyone. Rhodey and Bucky especially.”

Peter nods. “I will.”

There’s a stubbornness in his voice but you know as well as Peter does that it’s just a pride/depression thing, but he’ll apologize. He’ll apologize and he’ll put this leg on and he’ll go to therapy and physical therapy. And then he’ll give a genuine, heartfelt apology again. He’s going to be depressed and he’s sure to have panic attacks and likely nightmares but it’ll get better because it always does. And he has all the support in the world, from everyone regardless of what the last month has been like.

“Well, alright,” You beam up at him, ready to connect the prosthetic to the metal band. “Ready to get back at it, Spidey?”

Peter looks to the TV, smile decorating his face before he looks down at you, determination back in his eyes. “Do it.”


	49. Reversed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The titan might have won the first time but now everyone is back with a vengeance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This contains Endgame spoilers so if you haven't seen it and don't want to be spoiled, don't read!! This is also an exert from my series Hamartia if y'all wanna check that out!

Your muscles burn and your joints ache. The titan took you down using the power stone, throwing you just a few feet away from where he'd just thrown Rhodey. It's been a fight like nothing either of you have seen before. An entire army of aliens attacking Wakanda and a giant purple titan showing up with the infinity stones ready to wipe out half of all living things once he obtains the mind stone. To say the fight was difficult would be the understatement of the century and it only proved to be much worse as you and Rhodey were finally able to stand.

The two of you are hidden further into the trees but have a view to watch as Thanos snaps his fingers right in front of Thor. Thor yells, face turning a shade of red and veins stick out in his forehead and neck. A gust of wind blows against the land, trees and blades of grass rustling, dirt flying up with the swift wind. Thanos and Thor both stand almost in a state of shock, looking at the gauntlet on Thanos's hand.

Thor looks to be more in a state of surprised devastation while Thanos looks to be in a painful state of bliss. He won. The heroes lost. It's written across both of their faces and it only gets worse when Thanos opens a portal, Thor's hammer dropping from Thanos's chest before Thanos disappears into the portal.

You look up to Rhodey, your helmet dissolving so Rhodey could see the distressed look across your face. "We just lost, didn't we?" You ask, holding your fear as best as you can.

_This cannot be the end._

Rhodey's helmet flips up and he just stares at you, holding a strong face. He doesn't want to lie knowing it wouldn't do either of you any good. You're old enough to handle it but you're still a kid. A kid with hope and faith that heroes always prevail even in times of heartbreak and devastation. Heroes die and they lose, but not like this. Rhodey looks around seeing Thor and Cap looking almost lost and he knows this isn't good.

"I don't know, kid." Rhodey nods and points forward. "Let's go to Cap." 

You start walking in front of Rhodey, the two of you trying to exit the tree line but then something horrible and terrifying starts happening. You start feeling your arm go numb and when you lift it up, it just starts to turn to dust. You quickly turn around, facing Rhodey who was extending his arms for you.

"Rhodey? What's happening?" You're able to get out while the rest of your body starts to dissolve into dust, blowing away in the wind.

"Shit," Rhodey's voice is distraught, his armor-clad hands resting on your shoulders just as the rest of your body disappears.

Rhodey stands in a state of stunned panic, his bones going cold and he feels the warmth and sting of tears behind his eyes. He looks up and he sees Bucky finish disintegrating while Steve is moving to him and then he catches Rocket going to Groot who's fading away, followed by Sam who was only a few feet away from him.

They lost and all he can do is move his stare to his armor-covered hands where he's holding what's left of you. It's just dust. Thanos has won and now you, his best friend's daughter, his Goddaughter is one of the fallen. How is he supposed to tell Tony? How are they even supposed to come back from this?

* * *

Birds chirp from above while leaves of the towering trees blow with the soothing wind. The bright green is soft but flowing from the wind. The air smells fresh, like after a heavy rainfall and the sun has finally come out to warm up the land. It feels like the first day of spring, the first day it's not freezing. Like it's the first day a hoodie and a pair of jeans is deemed acceptable and proper wear for the conditions.  _It feels alive._

A gasp brings you back to the land of the living, your eyes bulging from your head as you shoot up, sitting upright. You take heavy breaths, hand coming to your chest as you look around. You're still surrounded by trees and plants, rustled dirt underneath you while birds fly above you against the bright blue sky that's almost completely hidden amongst the trees. A few stray bugs fly around you before buzzing off and a distant murmur is heard from across the trees.

It all floods back in that moment. Thanos, the snap, turning to dust. Rhodey. You get to your feet, starting to feel frantic as you look around, seeing no sign of Rhodey who was just there. Or was he?

You turned to dust and now you're back. That doesn't even make any sense. None of it makes any sense and it was just like you'd gone to sleep but if you turned to dust, you couldn't have simply been asleep. So what happened and where's Rhodey? Where's Tony and Pepper and Peter and everyone?

"Rhodey!" You call out, your voice more broken than you'll ever admit.

"Y/n?" A familiar voice rings in your ears as you exit the trees, into the passing where you last saw the purple titan.

"Bucky?" Your face scrunches in confusion. "What happened? Where's Rhodey? And Cap? Thor?"

He shakes his head, looking just as confused but not nearly as frantic as you. "I don't know."

"Did you turn all dusty?" You ask, you and Bucky closing the distance between yourselves. "Because that's all I remember and Rhodey being there and looking scared and then I just woke up and we... _lost_."

Bucky stares at you with wide eyes, almost like he's in shocked confusion trying to piece everything together himself. "Yeah, yeah. I remember seeing Steve and turning to dust. I woke up over there." Bucky jerks his head behind him. "Let's find some others." He rests a hand on your shoulder, leading the two of you to where you find Sam who's walking out from another tree line.

"Barnes? Little Stark?" Sam questions, his expression turning to one of disbelief and relief.

"Sam?" You and Bucky question.

"Did you turn to dust, too?" You ask.

"Yeah..." Sam nods, brows furrow while his eyes move to the ground. "Because that's now something normal."

The three of you exchange looks, all of sadness and mixed confusion before hearing Wanda call your names. Her expression doesn't differ from any of yours while she joins you, explaining the last thing she remembers. Thanos using the time stone to bring Vision back and then ripping the mind stone out of his head and then turning to dust. She woke up with the three of you.

"Uh..........the tree is also here." You whisper to Bucky, capturing a glimpse of Groot looking at his limbs.

"I am groot." Groot says.

"Yes?" You question. "Wasn't he with a raccoon?"

"A talking raccoon that wanted my arm, yeah." Bucky lets out an exasperated sigh while Groot joins you.

It's only then that T'Challa comes out from another tree line, holding himself strong and for a second, all of you think maybe he might know what happened but, he didn't. He also turned to dust just as he was going to help Okoye but, at least with T'Challa, the group of Avengers and Groot have someone to follow, someone who might actually know who will know what happened. So, you all fall in line with him, following his lead to the kingdom.

Luckily for them, Okoye was the first to greet you but it wasn't all happy. Naturally, she was happy to see T'Challa back and she had Shuri on her side who had apparently been dusted as well and just come back. But, that's not what threw any of you off. Okoye told you everything.

It's been five years. Five years since Thanos won and it's taken five full years for anyone to have any idea how to reverse it. No one really gave up but it seemed hope was lost and the effort to gain everyone back was lackluster, well, besides a few. But five years is a long time.

You listen but your mind wanders to your friends. If it's been five years and you're still the same, at least it seems you're still the same, what about your friends? If they weren't dusted, they're out of high school. They're living their lives. Older.

What about Peter? He was in space with your dad. What if he wasn't dusted? Did he die in space because how else would he get back? What if he was the only one left in space and he died from either starvation of dehydration? And what about your dad? Your mom? Rhodey? Everyone else?

You know your dad didn't give up but did he move on with your mom for at least some time? Was there a time where your parents did give up? Five years is just so long with no answers. Five years is a long time to go without being able to get their kid back.

"How's my dad?" You ask.

Okoye dodges your stare but only for a second. "He's not stopped since you were gone." Okoye sends a soft smile to you, one that shows happiness but a small of touch concern, certain that there must have been a sacrifice or will be one in order for all of the dusted to have started reappearing.

There's almost a sense of relief but not much. You didn't want your parents to just move on with their lives if there was a chance to get everyone back but at the same time, whoever said it was possible? You don't need all the details to know that maybe this could not have been possible. And if not, then your parents should have been able to move on. So, there's a part of you that feels sad they've spent five years of their lives stuck. And looking for someone they don't know if they could ever get back.

"What are we doing now?" Wanda asks.

T'Challa stares in front of everyone, his sister on one side and Okoye on the other while orange and yellow portals start forming over Wakanda. You can see what looks to be a battleground, debris everywhere and Thanos with his army far into the distance while Steve is in your view.

"Now," T'Challa starts. "We fight." T'Challa starts walking towards the portal while everyone follows suit, a sense of adrenaline coming over everyone.

You might not have every detail but the one thing you all have is extreme hatred for the purple titan in the distance. He killed you all and your loved ones and he's not going to win this time.

"On your left." Sam says while he uses his mechanical wings to fly above you all and through the portal.

A smile pulls on your lips while your helmet starts to cover your head as all of you enter through the portal. T'Challa, Okoye, and Shuri hold their stance, looking at Steve while you leave a few feet of distance. You see T'Challa nod and a smile pull at Steve's mouth.

Sam flies through the sky where other portals all start to form and T'Challa starts the chant for the Wakanda army, everyone falling right in line. The chant gets louder and more and more people start walking through portals, it's all steady but with purpose. Steps are tough and everyone is ready for this to be the last war against the titan. He won't be making it out this time and it's written all over the hundreds of faces that walk and fly and swing out of the portals.

Hero and warrior join behind Steve, taking their stances to face off the army staring you all down. You're now more evenly matched but even if you weren't, that wouldn't matter. Everyone can feel the tension in the air and the desire and need to win. Everyone shares the same want and determination.

Steve stands right in front of everyone, taking his own stance while he looks directly at Thanos. "Avengers," Steve yells and pauses just for a second. "Assemble."

With Steve's words, everyone rushes forward. Those who can fly take the air while everyone else runs, ready to take their revenge. You fly into the air, moving with Sam on one side and someone on a pegasus you haven't met before on the other side.

Yelling and sounds of metal clanking hit the air as everyone starts fighting. Some are using swords while others have spears. Some like you are using a type of blaster and others have guns, some have magic and others are just using their pure strength to punch the aliens of Thanos's army.

You fight on your own among others, using the blasters to your best ability all while you catch a glimpse of similar blasters but they're bigger. You turn to see a blue and silver suit back to back with the familiar red and gold suit with the bright blue reactor in the chest. The two of them are using blasters in a circle, defeating the aliens easily and you beam from inside your helmet.

You fly over to them, blasting and killing the last alien and gaining the attention of Pepper and Tony before the three of you move to the ground. The helmets all dissolve into the rest of the armor while you stare at each other. Pepper and Tony get teary eyes while you hold a smirk that says it all.

"Dad." You let out a breath and run to him, Tony embracing you in a hug.

Tony's arms wrap around you and maybe he's hugging you a little too tight but neither of you can be bothered to say anything. He just squeezes harder and kisses your cheek, gaining a groan from you and a "sh" from him.

One of the things that's kept Tony going is you. While in space, he ran through it over and over how he would have to tell his daughter that he lost her friend. He lost the kid. But then he thought he was going to die and then that turned into multiple apologies for not only losing your friend but for losing himself. And then, it got worse when he was saved and brought to earth. The first words he said were "I lost the kid. I lost the kid. Where's y/n?" and Steve had to look at a malnourished Tony and tell him that Peter wasn't the only kid gone. You were gone, too.

"Hey, mom." You say, trying to pull away from Tony.

"Tony," Pepper rests a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I think she's okay."

Tony pulls away, hands resting on your shoulders as he just looks at you with relief and happiness. "Yeah, you're alright."

You nod before moving to hug Pepper. "When'd you get a suit? What's up with that?" You ask, looking up to Pepper who laughs.

"Your dad's been busy." Pepper whispers, her eyes glancing to Tony who's heart is swelling in his chest at the look of his small family being reunited.

"Not to cut the reunion short but you've got incoming at 3 o'clock." Rhodey says through the coms, flying above you.

The small family all turn to the right direction, sticking out the same hand, and using the blasters to kill an alien three times the size of Tony. A swelling of pride radiates though you as you look between your parents, happy to be with them and fighting alongside them. But, it is still a war and you need to focus.

You and Pepper fly up, the two of you going in different directions to fight and help where you can while Tony works on killing some of the aliens on the ground.

"Look who's back." Rhodey says, flying by you.

_Rhodey._

"Heard it took five years, what's up with that?" You quip, taking down a group of aliens with large blasters sticking out from the shoulders of the armor.

Rhodey laughs as he flies past you, just barely glancing at you and smiling to himself while he fights but not before you catch sight of the raccoon riding on Rhodey and shooting the gun with more joy than probably needed.

"You have a raccoon on your shoulder." You state, remembering the raccoon from the fight in Wakanda but not catching the name or anything about him other than that he was with Groot.

Rhodey sighs. "Yeah, it's been five years."

You laugh before turning to face off with another alien, this one proving to put up more of a fight but not one you lose. You kill the alien in minutes and are off to fight another but your attention is pulled when you catch something, someone, out of the corner of her eye.

 _Peter_.

"Holy cow," Peter rushes his words as he approaches Tony. "Mr. Stark, you will not believe what's been happening. Do you remember when we were in space and I got all dusty?" Peter's words all run together and Tony can't even put them together, he's only focused on the fact that this kid, the one he's mentoring and looks at as his own, his daughter's best friend, is alive. In the flesh, right in front of him.

Tony reaches out and pulls Peter in for a hug, Peter's words slowly slurring together and coming to a stop in confusion before he hugs Tony back, something he really didn't think he'd get the chance to do. Tony's weird about even being handed things and as far Peter's seen, Tony's only ever hugged Pepper, you, and Rhodey. But this? This is nice.

"Oh," Peter says. "This is nice." Peter sighs, before his eyes go to the sky and he sees you and his eyes bulge from his head.

He wasn't sure about you. He didn't know where you were after he left the bus. He didn't know anything and while he hasn't had time to overthink or panic or even fear very much, it was looming in the back of his head about what happened to you but now he's seeing the red and silver suit coming down to him and Tony.

"Y/n?" Peter whispers, his grip on Tony loosening while you stand a few feet away from them, your helmet dissolved showing your soft smile and teary eyes.

Tony glances behind him before looking back to Peter. "I'm glad you're back, kid. Stay safe." He sends Peter a smile, squeezing his shoulders, before he launches into the air to start fighting again and allowing the teenagers to have a short reunion.

Peter's heart races in his ears and his chest with the sight of you, someone he really wasn't sure he'd see again once he hitched a ride to space. And even with the noise of the war surrounding him, Peter can hear your heartbeat again. And suddenly, it feels like everything is gonna be okay.

"Peter!" You beam, Peter's name is drenched in excitement as you run over to him.

Your arms immediately wrap around his neck and his around your torso. You've hugged a million times before. It's nothing unusual or out of character but this hug just feels so good. It's a hug that's tight and filled with things unsaid and rushed relief. It's a hug that should probably wait until after the war is won but it just can't. It's an impulse. And it feels like things are falling into place.

And Peter can't get his heart to slow down. He can blame it on the adrenaline of the war and the mix of seeing his mentor and one of his best friends again. He can blame it on the curiosity of wanting to know exactly how five years have passed for everyone besides those who were dusted and he could blame it on the wonder about his other friends and May. But, there's that feeling in his gut and that's not it. He's just so happy and relieved to see, to feel, you with him again.

And one second you're hugging and the next, Peter's pressing his lips to yours. You're eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat while you don't even bother to breathe, the shock of the kiss is enough to knock the wind out of you. But, it doesn't last long before Peter's pulling away, as if being snapped out of the rush of relief.

"I-uh, I um, s-sorry, I shouldn't....I mean...." Peter stutters and his face is matching the deep red of the iron spider suit and your cheeks heat up.

"It's okay." You whisper. "That was just unexpected." You say but you give Peter a warm smile.

"Um," Peter glances around to the war around you. "Yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck.

Peter opens his mouth to start rambling an apology but he's cut off by an explosion to the side of you. The two of you flinch away from the blast, both being brought back into reality that you don't have time to stand around. Everyone needs to work together if you're gonna win. Reunions can wait.

You lean in and kiss Peter's cheek. "We'll talk about it later?"

Peter nods quickly, his heart skipping a beat and his cheek where you kissed him is burning in the most soothing way. "Yeah, yeah." Peter's face scrunches and he slowly gains a fighting smile, one that says he's ready to jump back into the fight. "Together?" Peter asks, his mask forming around his face.

You smirk with the shrug of your shoulders, your helmet forming around your face. "I'll cover you."

The two teenagers move around, Peter using his webbing to grab the aliens and you blasting them, killing them instantly. You work together to help as much as you can while you listen to Cap in your coms telling Clint to get the stones far away and Scott saying they still have the van but it's right behind Thano's army.

Peter and you use your AIs to locate the gauntlet that contains the stones, making your way towards it to cover anyone who has it. It goes from Clint to T'Challa and T'Challa was doing great with it, making up plenty of ground until one of Thanos main minions trapped him in rock and debris.

"You're on, Parker." You say, firing at the rock holding T'Challa just as Peter swings in and webs it, pulling it into his grasp.

"I got it!" Peter yells, landing on an alien before he's completely surrounded. He only has one choice and he knows his AI will plenty happy. "Activate instant kill."

Adrenaline floods Peter's veins as the pincers come out of the suit and kill every surrounding alien while Peter holds onto the gauntlet with his life. He never really thought he'd ever need an instant kill feature given his feelings on killing but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Instant kill, huh?" You ask, flying above Peter and killing a few incoming aliens. "How'd it feel?"

"Shut up." Peter groans through a half-hearted laugh before he's back to running and swinging with the gauntlet, trying to get it through at least some of the army but it doesn't last long before he's jumped by ten aliens and missiles start firing from Thanos's ship.

"Peter!" You yell, trying to turn around but you get hit by an alien three times your size, taking you down to the ground.

"Uh, a little help!" Peter yells, squirming away from the aliens as he tries to hold onto the gauntlet.

"I-" You punch the alien as hard as you can, taking a step forward while ignoring your throbbing head, desperate to go help Peter. "Swear-" You punch it again, this time using an extension of the armor. "I'm-" Again. "Going to lose my shit!" You groan, using the blasters on your shoulders and your hands, instantly killing the alien who only barely stood a chance.

You pant but only for a second while you look over your shoulder, seeing no sign of Peter anymore. Instead, you go to look back in front of you, ready to fly back into the air and continue the work while having your own AI keep a look out but before you can move anywhere, you're being snatched into the air before one of the aliens that looks like a hybrid centipede attacks you.

"Gotcha." Peter says, webbing you and pulling you along, saving you.

You look up to see he's riding a pegasus and still holding tight of the gauntlet. "Raccoon riding on Rhodey, talking trees, Peter on a pegasus." You mutter, your blasters turning on so you can detach yourself from Peter's webbing and fly alongside. "Anything else?"

Peter glances to you and you can't see through his mask but he's smiling, a small and sweet smile. And his eyes are just as bright as they always are. "We're surrounded by wizards." Peter says gaining a half laugh, half scoff from you but that quickly disappears.

A missile comes and flies right past you, the motion of the missile knocking Peter from the pegasus and throwing you off course. You're quick though and go to catch him, just enough for the two of you to collide with the ground. The two of you don't waste time in getting to your feet, Peter running first and you keeping him covered just long enough for you to make it a few more yards before another missile hits right in front of Peter. And lucky for you, his reflexes are faster than the missile.

He webs you as he's thrown backwards and to the side, pulling you against him while a missile hits where you were running behind. The two of you roll and tumble against a large rock, Peter's mask and your helmet dissolving once you've stopped.

You're both bleeding from noses and lips, both looking terrified and it only gets worse when more missiles start coming down. You duck under each other, both of you trying to protect each other from the impact anything that might hit you while the gauntlet is right under you, not moving even a centimeter.

The explosions of the missiles press on for what seems like forever, allowing the teens to cower into each other, hoping to keep each other and the gauntlet safe from Thanos and his army. And Peter's got his web attached to you while his arm is wrapped around you, his eyes closed shut while his head is buried into your shoulder.

Your arm is tangled over his side and the two of you are holding each other in a death grip as if that's enough to keep each other safe. Fighting a war is hard. Fighting a war as a teenager, even with superhero tech and superhuman abilities, is harder. Fighting a war with all of that and fighting with someone you're also trying to protect is the hardest. But, that's how you stay alive. Protect each other.

The sounds of the missiles come to a stop and debris stops flying around while the dust starts to diminish, Peter and you looking up to each other. Your eyes are both bloodshot from the dust that was being blown around and you're covered in dirt, faces decorated in dort and blood mixture, already forming bruises hidden by the filth.

"You okay?" Peter asks.

"Always. You?" You ask.

"Y-yeah," Peter nods, his voice shaking as he doesn't let his grip fall from you or the gauntlet.

You're about to speak, tell him you need to get up and either keep moving or find cover and pass off the gauntlet when you're attention is brought to the front of you when a pretty woman with short blonde hair flies in front of you. Peter and you let go of each other, Peter cradling the gauntlet as he stares at the new hero.

"Hi, I'm...Peter Parker." He says, looking up at her with soft and puppy eyes, his voice broken and scared. "That's y/n."

You quirk a brow but stares back at the hero, your eyes matching Peter's. Pleading for her to help the two of you.

"Hey, Peter Parker and y/n." She greets the two of you while you help each other to your feet. "You got something for me?" She asks, her voice a little rough but perfectly fitting for her and even welcoming.

"Oh, yeah." Peter hands her the gauntlet. "I don't know how you're gonna get it through all that."

The hero takes hold of the gauntlet rests it against her hip while Wanda flies in. "Don't worry." She says.

"She's got help." Okoye says as she comes seemingly out of nowhere.

Other women from all over start joining in. The woman on the pegasus either teen has yet to formally meet, Pepper, a woman who can shrink like Ant-Man, Mantis, and Shuri join in. Gamora and Nebula join from either side, everyone keeping the newest hero with gauntlet in the middle to keep her covered.

There's a sense of pride that rushes through your chest as you watch and you're bruised, bloodied, and beaten but you're all for joining the group of women to fight Thanos. So, you step forward and Peter watches in a state of awe. But, you sure don't get far before you hear your mom in the com.

"You and Peter pull back. Keep fighting but pull back." Pepper says, her voice is stern and while you might wanna argue and go to war with all of these women, you know better than to even try to reason with Pepper when her voice is that stern.

"Pulling back." You say, taking a step back beside Peter and the two of you have to stand and watch, just for a few seconds while the women run into action, the one with gauntlet even having superspeed to do so. "Who is that?" You ask, leaning closer to Peter.

"I was gonna ask you." Peter sighs, and he manages a sort broken smile with his cut lip. "So, uh," Peter looks around. "Now where?"

You look around and it's a little heartbreaking to watch but you've seen worse. It was more of a slaughter in Wakanda but at least here, you're holding up your ground. Thanos's army hasn't made a dent and it's all evenly matched but it's still devasting to see the amount of damage that's already being done. It's supposed to be daylight but there's so much debris and dust and dirt being kicked up into the air it looks like dusk. It's gloomy and people are screaming and yelling and fighting for their lives.

"We pull back and keep going." You look to him and give him a single nod before turning around.

Peter turns with you. "Okay. I'll cover you." He says and the confidence he wants to show is his hidden by fatigue but he won't give up. Not now.

"Let's go, Spidey." You jerk your head and you're about to start moving when another explosion comes out of nowhere and it sends the two of you flying forward, Peter landing on top of you.

Peter groans, quickly rolling off of you and onto his back, quickly growing defeated by the fight. He looks to you and your head is turned towards him, eyes drooping while you shake your head just enough.

"Ow." You mutter. "When will it stop?" You whine, trying to get up but, like Peter, you're tired from the fight, too.

Peter gets up first, ignoring the stinging and weakness in his muscles and he's reaching down to help you to your feet. No matter how many times you fall, you have to get up. If you don't get up, you might as well just call it quits and hang up the suits. It's no place to die. You reach your hand up to grab Peter's and while Peter is pulling you up, your attention is pulled to the right, in front of them.

Thanos has the stones.

"Oh, no." Your voice shakes as you see Tony going to grab Thanos and panic spreads through your body.

You know. And Peter can feel your fear radiating off of you. He heard your heart start to race and not from the exhaustion, not from the pain, but from the fear and heartbreak of what you're both certain you're going to witness. And if it weren't for Peter's superhuman hearing and senses, he wouldn't have been able to grab you in time.

"No," Peter's arms are around your waist, holding your back. "You can't. He'll kill you." Peter mutters against your ear.

"Peter! Let go!" You struggle against him. " _Please_." Your voice breaks as you watch Thanos push Tony off of him, while he starts giving a boring villain speech no one can be bothered to fully listen to. " _Peter, **please**_." You look to him and your eyes are watering and Peter's never seen you cry before. He's never seen you like this at all and never really thought he would. "I need you to let go and come with me."

Peter's grip doesn't loosen but he's thinking about it. What if it were May? Thanos is too busy talking that he hasn't noticed the stones gone but Peter and you have. Tony has them and what if it were May? But this is Tony and Peter looks at him like another father figure and maybe you have a plan.

"Okay." Peter says hesitantly and you rip from his grip, grabbing his hand to drag him along.

"I'm inevitable." Thanos says and your blood boils but it quickly turns to more panic when Tony holds up his right hand, showing the infinity stones.

"And I...am...Iron...Man--"

"Dad!" You yell as loud as you can before you run directly into him and wrap your arms around his neck.

Pain. All you feel is pain the second you touch him and you know it's the power of the stones but that also confirms your half-assed theory. More people.

"You snap, you die." You struggle through a pant, your body already breaking out into a sweat.

"Hey...Mr. Stark." Peter says, following your lead, pain radiating through his body but lifting only a small fraction of pain from you and Tony.

"You can do it if you get a bunch of people to stand with you. More people, that means the power can be more equally distributed especially when we have people like that one girl who can  _fly_ and we have gods here and wizards." Your words are exasperated but your grip doesn't loosen, not even the slightest bit despite your muscles pleading for you to let go.

Another hand comes down on Tony's shoulder while the three of you look up and Pepper is standing there. "We have a smart kid, Tony." Pepper says, she's maintaining a worried and painful smile but Tony nods and more people seem to gather what's going on and one by one, everyone either has an arm around someone or is holding their hand or shoulder.

As one person joins after other, the pain starts to dissipate. It becomes just bareable enough and Thanos can only stand there while a few of the wizards hold back the rest of his army. He knows he's just lost. Tony doesn't have to snap his fingers to know, it's written across the purple titan's face and it's the most satisfying sight any of the heroes have seen in a long time.

And then Tony snaps his fingers.

Everyone connected to each other yells out in pain but no one lets go, no one even questions it. They just take the pain, knowing this is the only way to defeat Thanos and prevent anyone else from dying. And it only lasts seconds for the pain to start dissipating to a slight gnawing and Tony's hand falls limp, the armor around his hand completely burned but he's alive. Everyone is alive all while Thanos and his army start to turn to dust just as Thanos had done to everyone else five years ago.

The heroes won.

"I love you tons." Tony looks over his shoulder to you who's still hugging his shoulders and you give him a weak but genuine smile. "But you're so grounded for this."

You scrunch your face but roll your eyes. "At least you can ground me. I'll take it."

Tony chuckles, the chuckle tired but he's alive.

Everyone starts to move away, feeling like it's finally safe to let go and it is. But now they're just looking around at the damage and they're all taking in what they just experienced. The fight of their lives. One that was all or nothing. It resulted in damage, a lot of damage that's going to take ages to clean but that's okay.

You let go and plop down beside your dad, Peter awkwardly following suit. "How's your hand?" You ask.

"It'll be alright." Tony says, his brows scrunching together when he gets a good look at you, seeing the blood, bruises, and dirt covering your face. "You're a mess." He brushes his whole hand over your face.

"Stoppp." You pull away. "Battle scars, I probably look cool." You hear Peter laugh from beside you. "I do."

"Yeah, alright." Tony rolls his eyes.

"C'mon," Pepper holds out her own hand for Tony. "Let's give them a minute and start," She pauses looking around.

"Damage control." Tony sighs but gives his wife a loving and adoring smirk.

"Yeah, exactly." Pepper's eyes widen while the two walk over and they meet up with Cap who's already with Bucky and Sam.

You look at Peter who's just an utter mess, the sweat from the pain of the infinity stones has only made the dirty and blood run together making him look dirtier than before. There are visible bags under his eyes and he already has a bruise around the bridge of his nose but he still has that look that's always been uniquely Peter. One of innocence and hope, one that just reads happiness.

"You okay?" You ask.

"Yeah, but, uh, I should be asking you that. How'd you know that would work?" Peter asks.

You shrug. "Thanos is big but he survived when he used the gauntlet. I saw Dr. Banner's arm, I'm guessing he used that one to bring us back. He's smaller than Thanos but he lived. It was a lucky guess."

"Pretty cool guess, too." Peter admits, a blush that can't even be seen through the dirt covers his cheeks.

"Thanks." You match the bashful smile. "You kissed me, by the way. I didn't forget."

"Oh," Peter immediately turns flustered and starts stuttering, trying to find something to say, an explanation even.

"It's okay." You repeat. "I didn't mind."

Peter's eyes widen at your words. You've just been friends and neither of you ever even thought of each other as more. Peter always thought you were pretty and admired you but never thought you as anything more than a friend. The same went for you but seeing you again and you seeing him again, it just. The kiss felt right.

"You didn't?" Peter asks, his voice laced in hope.

"No." You admit, a shy smile forms across your face as you fidget in place, something you never do. You don't get nervous but Peter has you feeling all sorts of nervous.

"Do...do you, wanna do something? After..."

"After we see everyone and take a long nap?" You laugh.

"Yeah." Peter laughs with you but it's a tired and nervous laugh, one that shows he's still leaning on hope.

"Okay, um," You think for a second. "Cheeseburgers at the tower? We can watch Star Wars." You pause, looking around and realizing where you are. "Well, the old tower, I guess." You correct yourself realizing you're sitting on pieces and debris from the new facility.

"That'd be awesome." Peter beams while he bites his bloodied lip. "W-we should, get up then and....help?" Peter looks around.

"Yeah." You nod and Peter stands, helping you to your feet, the two of you standing there in a bit of awkward happiness. "Thanks for saving my life, too." You look to the ground before it's your turn to catch Peter by surprise and kiss him quickly.

This time, you can see the red coming to Peter's cheeks when you pull away. "Anytime." The word is breathless before Peter slowly pulls you into a hug, this time, it's a comforting hug.

A hug that you don't have to rush or worry about ending before it's too soon. And your eyes close, just happy to be safe, this time, really safe and with each other. Both of you nervous but excited to see what the future will bring you.


End file.
